New World Lamb

When it is over
A tired man rests
On any damn breast
And it is over
I’m like a dying star
I feel like hell
All my friends are doing well
They do not call me
There is a black flame
That burns in the heart
The butter and bread
Is coming apart
When it is over
A tired man rests
On any damn breast
And it is over
And I am tired
In the new world
A butcher is king
He owns everything
This is the new world