Because Fridays are for Stuff Like This

I built a little empire


Out of some crazy garbage called the blood of the exploited working class...

But they've overcome their shyness; now they're calling me "Your Highness,"

And a world screams,
"Kiss me, Son of God!"

I destroyed the bond of friendship and respect

Between the only people left, who'd even look me in the eye...

Now I laugh and make a fortune

off the same ones that I torture,

And a world screams,
"Kiss me, Son of God!"

I look like Jesus,

so they say...

But Mister Jesus is very far away...
Now you're the only one here, who can tell me if it's true

That you love me,

And I love me...

I built a little empire, out of some crazy garbage

called the blood of the exploited working class,




But they've overcome their shyness

Now they're calling me "Your Highness,"

And a world screams,

"Kiss me,"

"Son of God."

(With apologies to They Might Be Giants. Particle Man, Particle Man, doin' the things a cross-post can...)