Two Cents

Left home all alone in the night to find me a priest
Said to collect your last lone piece
From all your evil ills
Distilled to a drop of honesty and good will
Hunting for everything
With two cents to my name
Nothing to carry sins
But burdens and my shame
There, rolling plain, the homeless pastor
Strolled a river's end
Debating ways of construing a statue out of mud
Muttered, "I'd invite you to my cathedral
But it drowned in floods most deceitful."
As I reached for and grasped at my last two cents
For to ask him for wisdom
Insistent at my expense

Got me weak at my knees, and I'm seeking out retreat
A great feast lying wasted in my mind
Lined and laced with a taste of novocaine
Ain't got no wisdom, no form or system
Born with a gift of two cents to my kingdom
Life sentence of discontent

The priest he stood silent
As he tossed away my payment
A pittance for my penance
Said, "I got no wisdom to dispense
To you who've got no semblance of a pain

Left home all alone in the night to find me a healer
Said to tend the world and all its fevers
Broken backs and stacks of worn out chills
Still all the night with a single pill
Pushing eternity
And two cents, the tensions of blame
To lessen my broken sense
There stood the professor on the outskirts
Forest of burning timbers
Knocking pine cones from the highest post
Bemoaning, "Man I used to own a practice
Til all my patients confused me for a cactus."
As I pawned off the last of my belongings
For to ask him for wisdom
Disabuse me from my illusions

Got me weak at my knees, and I'm seeking out retreat
A great feast lying wasted in my mind
Lined and laced with a taste of novocaine
Ain't got no wisdom, no form or system
Born with a gift of two cents to my kingdom
Life sentence of discontent

The doctor he stood silent
As he tossed away my payment
A pittance for my penance
Said, "Got no medicine to dispense
To you who've got no semblance of a pain

Left home all alone in the night to find me a beggar
Said to spend his pennies for anyone in any weather
To the rich, the poor, the bound and free-willed
Giving everything til his final breath stands still
Searching for a cold winter soul
To fill my cold splinters full with golden frame
From an empty dock
The tramp locks his fishing pole
Tossing hemlock onto the bedrock
Talking, "Those fish, they need the food
Throw a cent or two, for luck and good fortune."
And I'm searching for my last two cents
Clemency from my misery so dense

Got me weak at my knees, and I'm seeking out retreat
A great feast lying wasted in my mind
Lined and laced with a taste of novocaine
Ain't got no wisdom, no form or system
Born with a gift of two cents to my kingdom
Life sentence of discontent

The beggar he stood silent
As he gave me back my payment
Abundance of clemency
As he said, "No horizon between the sky and sea
Your misery and your remedy are one and the same."



Credits
Writer(s): Yusuke Yamanaka
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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