The Opiate, Winter Vol. 16
The Happiest Man on Earth Harley Claes He spoke of Roseville like It was heaven itself, All its autoshops and kids shot Even despite this he saw the beauty In the blues And the pinks in the sky Preached to us that the lord Would forgive all of his children Even those addicted to the bottle His bones were as brittle as icicles Lungs collapsed in the cradle of his chest He had his fair share of love for the drug A dependency, Couldn’t think he could quit it But in jail Jesus accompanied him Straight into the arms of heaven In the form of a bible between the hold of a cell And the stripping of his self We called him the happiest man on Earth Every morning he said it is his best yet To wake up still breathing From buried lungs Off of an oxygen tank That stung others his age With a promise of the kiss of death
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