You were born from sin And if that ain't a curse Than I don't know what is
Like abraham and altar The son you can't keep Would the shepherd shed the blood Of his most precious sheep
Did Job ever ponder The price of his piety Was Methuselah tired Did Lazarus want sleep
Praise be Thomas For fingering the wound 'Cause if he had his doubts Then perhaps we should too
And does the bride beg For a barren womb Did god give the gift Of a gamble to you
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