Let the dead bury their own dead
Will you still love me in famine?
As when love began at the harvest
Or would you gain the whole world
Son, I love you at your darkest
But what good is the whole world
When I promise no tomorrow
I only promise your tomorrows
Will never take you past my palm
Love, what is love without trust
At my word, would you bring your Isaac?
Son, I loved you at your darkest
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