I scale the razor while I rope over the dead space and arrows sticking out that bullseye tattooed on my breastplate
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I'm high flying, tasting the poison on the clouds breath, a little bit too nervous just to follow when that crowds steps
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I break, break, into little tiny pieces and vanish and you can take, take all the memories and make patterns of em
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and say, say, that you'll never think about me when they ask
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and if they don't look like they trust you can turn around and dash
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and this is awful to say but I don't think you ever needed me
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that tooth was through your lip before you ever started eating me
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beatin' it downs not what you need to be taught here, I'm beggin you just to stop for a little bit
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and let that broken record play for you
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and you can smell the smoke from all the pain it took to lay its groove
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and fall into that place where you can die from it or face the truth
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it's silly, 'cause I all see is danger when I lay with you
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the voices start talking and saying
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun, and sorrow is a cold jagged blade
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun, and sorrow is a cold jagged blade
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun and I got it torn and it aimed at your face
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How come your eyes hurt me so bad?
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mirrors or windows? can you feel that? how would you describe that?
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I fear I'm too simple. How come your hands are so, so cold?
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my skin or yours? no circulation, heavy pulse
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I fear with every use to me my aneurism now
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that caution so convincing, fully engage the arm hairs, drys out the mouth
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it's alkiline, count the cate, that courage, that now's the time
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that head devise, spin, spin, with a big fake grin and the skin gettin thicker by the blink
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know the ill by the stink and the length of the beard
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know the real by the stare and the feel way
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know the real by the gut, know to seal your convictions with steel
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know steal by how it stings your feelings, no further advice
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no cure for the vice, no feelings searing like spice in a con life
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with the fears like contacts and never call any backs, what's up
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and I feel foul 'bout it, but so much lighter 'bout it, right?
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun, and sorrow is a cold jagged blade
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun, and sorrow is a cold jagged blade
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I know they say happiness is a warm gun and I got it torn and it aimed at your face
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War For The Crippled
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| Grieves |
