no dice mr. man
cause you got soft
with a clay hand
and that thing
that makes you feel
the way you feel
it's nothing but
another twisted deal
rot your self out
of life and home
burning black
with brittle bones
and your flesh
could peel
could break away
but your eyes
are a soft
cold mix of gray
steal the blood
it isn't right
drain the vein
from the bite
and the warm flow
trickle down
lips and tongue
suck it down
it's not the life
or the night
it's the pain
from the fight
the pain from living
in the light
a lifeless shadow
fade to white