I was born to the ghost of a mother

And a father, a corpse,

So I suppose that makes me a maggot.

I’m bundled by death

A collection of Styx

So I suppose that makes me a faggot.

 

Under pressure like a diamond

But not nearly as special,

Guess I’m closer to being a piece of agate.

Life’s heavy.

But I’m tough as a mule

Or as some would say “an ass”

So I’m expected to be able to drag it.

 

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