Church Of The Drive Thru Elvis

And there's someone always laughing over me A taste of my inferiority It mocks me and weakens me Emphasises what is wrong with me And now that I am not content to be A weak impression of what used to be I wake up in terror To see that I am so incredibly low We are all sinners alone You take life better than me My wheelchair sinks into the sand Like blooms fractured and torn Everyone's a sinner baby that's for sure No conduit messiah god-like With halo aesthetically Appease my all consuming vanity And now that I am not content to be A weak impression of what used to be