The planet gets priced for what it gives us,
A beggar taxed for a corner to die in,
The crooked priest has his fee,
Who doesn't live trust and,
We bargin for the graves that we lie in,
While at the Devil's booth all things are sold,
Each ounce of junks costs it's ounce in gold,
Knowledge to the poorest comer free and lavish this summer,
Makes myself quit shucking and jive'n.
that's pretty much on point to what I hear
I always thought it was "the crooked priest stashes fee" but I can hear either now
and I was completely lost on the second line but that sounds right
Bookmarks