Blood's Too Rich

Take my mother, my sister, my brother, and my first born son.

Ne' er do wells, everyone.

There's a fracture in the fabric of the family's old scotch pine.

But it will heal if given time.

I for one am a believer in the nod and shake.

We'll get on, it's never too late.

It's a part of your cult that I might keep for myself.

Turn the other cheek (that's nice).

But not that but about your hell.

Because my blood's too rich for subway cars, and I'm too poor for a cab.

I'm too old for the girl I love but she doesn't know it yet.

When I die I will leave no shadows of regret.

I'm too tired to make amends that cannot go unsaid