the instruments of battle barely fit into our hands
the war of disease
you tie the imperfect knot just to watch it come undone
and the wounds of the broken, unseam
talk to me on rhythm
dance me into your rhyme
I can't say I've learned a little
while I'm sitting on your dime
contagion at every corner
we gamble a cleanly lot
you stick them with a dirty sword
chance is all they've got
I can count
but I didn't count on the blood of their convictions
the weight of the world
the weight of the scale
the way to bargain friction
only to choose to give a man his heaven or to give him his hell
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