The Prodigal Son lyrics

Well, I've been a disclaimer for twenty-four yearsPoor mother drowned in a pillow of tearsIm well known in story, famous in songThe black sheep, the blemish, the one who went wrongThe black sheep, the blemish, the one who went wrongMy crime is discomfort, my mind ill at easeThey'll grow on my shoulder, my favorite diseaseMy siblings, my rivals might tend to my wakeGrieve me not brothers, I was mother's mistakeGrieve me not brothers, I was mother's mistakeAnd all the grand expectations of an epic of wealthLeave me long to crawl back to the wombWell, I've tasted your grace, placed it back on the shelfDrag your pedigree wives to your tombDrag your pedigree wives to your tombWell, I came from this city, a victim of peaceBut I've grown far too filthy to attend to the feastSo I take to the hills to live savage and freeI dont need nobody, nobody needs meI dont need nobody, nobody needs me(thanks to Novo for these lyrics)