Who would've known that scissors beat stone
Patience wins out in the end
Try as I might the words are never quite right
Away from my paper and pen
And they stick
In my mouth
Like a fog
Pluming out
Thick and loud
I used to the moan the most awful of groans
At the thought of climbing from my bed
And it shook the walls and it ripped through the walls
Before a sound quiet as death
I can wait
'til today
Never felt so awake
It's getting late
It's getting late
And so your neck gives in
To your drooping skull
Like the mission bells
By the garden wall
Where you lost your fear
And you let it all
Come tumbling out
Of your livid mouth
Like the spitting kids
On the concrete bridge
Picking cars below
Aiming at their lids
Better there for now
Where it's safe and sound
Than those broken homes
Where it's always loud
So I hold my tongue
Like it's mine to hold
When there's nothing here
That I really own
It returns with lust
To the dirt and dust
All you need is love
'cause all we have is love
Is is art I make?
I can never tell
How a piece of work
Works like peace as well
For a weary head
In a spinning room
Filled with bad ideas
And sweet perfume