You never cried, you never froze

And yet how well your garden grows

You reap the fruits another sows

I guess that works out well for you

Suffering has served you well

It's common, yet it somehow sells

So sing your little songs of hell and sell

Hollow hopes and empty dreams

And blind pursuit of worthless schemes

That's all there is to life, it seems

Unless you prove me wrong

Please do

Please do

Please do

Please do