The knife is anxious
Time swallows time
My hand soothes the blade
There's no safe place for you
Waiting is my weakness
Your lying tongue shall soon lay quiet
In flaming fields of eel-grass
this human heart is jumping.
My muddy boots dig deeper down,
the road to sleep is thick and slow
in this town...
My town.
It cuts like cold fire
Breath gives way to dirt
Your spirit burns the air
When your blood sings so sweet
this night becomes a fable
where devils meet
and dreams will shatter
Kings die and beggars die
Rich men and poor men die

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