| Step back, put your weapons away.
|
| I’m going on alone. |
| In time, as your mercy decays, we’re left to dissolve.
|
| If I was suffering, I’d cut the ties that were never meant to bind.
|
| But I’m so tired now.
|
| So you’re talking in rhyme.
|
| The rhythm escapes you.
|
| Don’t ask for more.
|
| Forgot all your lines, let it erase you.
|
| Don’t ask for more.
|
| Applause has the worth of it’s bearer.
|
| The cheers will bleed through with the laughter.
|
| Loose with fast hands, and fumbling into a rough noose.
|
| I’ve fitted better knots, but not without precious time.
|
| For some jobs cheap will do.
|
| Stole through weak locks, and often into a den of wolves.
|
| I’ve heeded caution some, but often not every time.
|
| For some jobs cheap will do.
|
| Step back, put your weapons away.
|
| I’m going on alone.
|
| In time, as your mercy decays, we’re left to dissolve.
|
| Bind my hands.
|
| We’ll settle this.
|
| Let the light, let the fire be forged on some higher peak.
|
| When you pass me by, let the flaming torch you carry rain down searing.
|
| This chemical let’s me breathe as carefully we plot our wars that never have an
|
| ending. |
| The grievances you laid on me, spoken many times before,
|
| never were about me.
|
| Loose with fast hands, and fumbling into a rough noose.
|
| I’ve fitted better knots, but not without precious time.
|
| For some jobs cheap will do.
|
| Stole, frequent, through weak locks of passers by, and often into a den of
|
| wolves.
|
| I’ve heeded caution some, but often not every time.
|
| For some jobs cheap will do. |