Blood's Too Rich

Take my mother, my sister, my brother, and my first born son.
Ne' er do wells, everyone.
There's a fracture in the fabric of the family's old scotch pine.
But it will heal if given time.
I for one am a believer in the nod and shake.
We'll get on, it's never too late.
It's a part of your cult that I might keep for myself.
Turn the other cheek (that's nice).
But not that but about your hell.
Because my blood's too rich for subway cars, and I'm too poor for a cab.
I'm too old for the girl I love but she doesn't know it yet.
When I die I will leave no shadows of regret.
I'm too tired to make amends that cannot go unsaid