I quit my shoes for a big boat baby now I have my hands on a cold press rail I cut my shape out of plastic and nylon now I have a cage made of rosewood and steel I have a knife for a cuff that can capture and I have a cuff for a collar that hails I have my states you have words you attain so I drank my thimble and ordered a pail I let my feet fall from four forty stories onto a platform of solder and steam I have a brow that was born to betray me and I may be gone but not quite to bury I have my states you have words to attain More than the crumbs I bled for this evening I saw true life just lie dead before me and I called it god and know I'm its son