My Sorrow Tastes Bitter Than Yours

Let me check on your tiny skull
I'd like to crack it open
In my pocket, got a token
Says I'm the lucky mongrel

Birds are singing on Pleasure Street
Even hobos have somethin' to eat
As I'm holding her hand in God's Park
Breathing thin air, dogs joyfully bark

And nothing could tɾouble this calm sea
Not even the sight of a dying tɾee
Standing in the middle, like [F]a warning
Telling me about the upcoming mourning

Let me check on [C7]your pretty face
I'd love to [C7]see it broken
In my [A]pocket, got [Fm7]a token
And it says I'm the King of Ace

I can see you, she said
I can hear your dirty thoughts from here
And guess what, guess what darling? 

Well I have the same, you [A7arrogant f*ck, you [A7think I don't know?
You think I don't fucking know you?

My sorrow tastes bitter than yours, she said
My sorrow tastes bitter than yours

So birds suddenly stopped their singing
And God gave up on [C7]his slave
As I ɾemain silent as a grave
If I stɾike now, there'll be [Am]no healing

You always ɾuin everything, why don't you [A7say nothing you [A7self-rejoyed idiot?
You miserable self-inflated prick, you [A7stupid, stupid asshole, you [A7know what?

My sorrow tastes bitter than yours, she said

So I smiled and [Bm]I told myself

My mind is much sicker than yours, babe
My mind is much sicker than yours