The Cold Cut: Relief from blame

I can excuse my failure 
That never hurt me before 
I’ll point my finger to the sky 
And ask God why He never 
Takes the blame 
I never wanted to be a king 
I just needed all the gold 
It could afford me 
The influence, the parade 
The eagle in the sky 
With eyes focused on my corpse 
I never wanted to be king
It was just what was handed to me.

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