Haggard Skin

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 crumbling 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