The Curator

I am, I am
The curator
And I am cataloging truth
I could, I could
Never persuade her
At least not since about 2002

I'm a credit to anyone who knows me
But I am a disaster to myself

I'm credit to this organization
But in such poor mental health

I am, I am
A real drag to encounter
I am financially not well off
I need, I need
A very wealthy dowager
Never did I
Consider myself soft

I'm a credit to the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.
But with no place to call home

It's harder to be ignored than to be hated
I know because with you I've been both

I'm curating a museum of me
Artifacts you'll never see, books you'll never read
Within the halls I can find some relief
Put a nickel in my hat, when you walk over me

Time's up, times up
Time to meet your maker

I am, I am
An actual force of nature

I'm a credit to absolutely no one who knows me
I couldn't be worth less if I were dead

I'm credit to disorganization
Ice in my blood, and chaos in my head, you said



Credits
Writer(s): Jared Morris
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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