If there's a reason to envy the wicked, it's this
They're well aware life is glorious
Their lives are bliss, no fear instilled
Their cups and bowls are always filled
They get what they want, live by do as thou wilt
They grow old, and die knowing no guilt

I am not like this, terror all around
Deep in my heart, nervous fatigue is found
They lock me up without answering why
They'd shoot me down if I tried to fly
They lean on me, then watch me fall
Before stepping and walking on me in front of all

And so I'm stuck, trapped in fear
While my enemies mock and cheer
As if pain and persecution is a jest
Though my life is gruelling, I can attest
Their hearts are hardened, mine's like clay
I adapt to suffering, they run away