Our poor Jester bit off more than she could chew,
I suppose it was inevitable, being the human in the crew.
It happens to all of us, and we all must start anew,
But still, our poor poor Jester, you have us, your crew.
Now I know you might not want a Reaper's comforts,
And well, even despite my best efforts.
The touch of death is hardly the greatest of comforts,
Even though an Angel's pity is one of the sweetest of desserts.
Callous hands and callous ways, coupled with a callous tongue,
I cannot help but feel I'm to blame, at least if only for some.
Please know, none of it was intended, I never tried to depress you,
Guys, it looks like our poor Jester has bit off more than she can chew.
Don't worry though Riddle, we have people to take care of you,
The perfect person, an Angel for comfort, and of course Sarah too.
Our poor poor Jester has bitten off more than she can chew...
But as long as we have breath in our lungs, we will look after you.