Thief
You take back the curse but the world just gets worse
As you wonder about how
Someone could become so fat and so proud of the damage they've done
Man, the damage was fun
A house is a home
Hotels made of skin and bone hold us
Father figures continue to scold us
Avuncular at best, in a church of new things
He traded the records for rings
As I sat back and watched what I thought wound ensue not ensue
Hospitals overflow with singers embittered and pissed
Dead ringers for men whose whereabouts should not be known or be missed
No failed revolt, no plot from the inside
Could contend with the prospect or trend toward being discovered before our time
With upwards of thirty songs all about women and children whose lives will come second to mine
You take back the curse but the girl just gets every rip-off artist
To paint a picture of a world at war
When the world was not at war