the heavens and the earth
When God made us, He did not make us equal. Why is it that you were shaped to be perfect? I was the one made in his image. The people, they look at you, and say: Look at greatness, look at that golden boy And then they turn to me And I am rotten, tainted. Oh, god, please, Look at me. I know that we are not equals, But you shine, oh so bright, (and I would like to touch heaven just this once)







