So could I sit my father’s throne if I were offered? 
 If I were needed? If I thought he was done? 
 And could I mend the [bad word] walls of his sovereign? 
 Or keep his promise, when I can’t keep my own? 

 Well, no. 
 I think I’m better off here wandering aimlessly in this haggard skin 
 No I’m not fit to lead my brother; I’m splintered wood in the eyes of my closest kin 

 So would it take another stone for me to stumble? 
 Maybe a small branch? Perhaps a pile of dung? 
 This path has gotten overgrown; I think I’ve lost the direction 
 So I’ll just make my own 
 And if that road should lead me home, oh I could prosper 
 I could laugh there; maybe I’ll have a son 
 But if that road should lead into a den of lions 
 Oh I’d be eaten for the wrongs I’ve done 

 I’ll make my peace now cause there are tyrants standing whichever way I go 
 And they’ve got honey dripping from their lips to entice you down their throats 
 When blood and water mix to finalize the absence of my breath 
 I’ll take a moment to notice there’s nothing left to get me 

 So now that it’s over I can breathe, cause they can’t get me 

 You can’t get me