Charlie Bones

Everything is broken...
That's the problem
We rob Peter to pay Paul
All the while, Batman is killing Robin
And it's not getting any better

Lord, forgive us our debts
As we relentlessly pursue our debtors
Because the collection agency is Death
And they never settle...
Not even for a second

They've been peddling high premiums
On the purchase of souls since the beginning
And we're neck deep in a bear market
So there's no chance of winning
Through a mere accumulation of wealth

That money was already spent
Long before the hand was even dealt, homie
And it could never fulfill your deepest needs
So all you really end up with is stuff and loneliness

Just a place for moths and rust to call their own
And if you don't believe that's how the story goes
Maybe you should have a conversation with Charlemagne's bones

"For what does it profit a man
To gain the world and lose his soul…?"
Adorned in all of his faded glory
A crown of worms upon a throne