How far did that staple drive through you?
Your operation makes me for you.
I tried to drive a tack through my hand, but I just fell and hurt my knee, at least I thought I did.
I thought I felt a sting, but all I got was this bad cough and all I heard were matches igniting and it left you looking at me.
I won't dance if you won't scream.
I won't dare. How far did that iron wear through you.
We tie ourselves around poles to flag ourselves as outpatients of different regimes.
I'm tired of tugging around your archaic weight because I've got this bad limp and I can't stop this cough that's tearing up my throat.
It feels like a lesson's carved inside.
Less on the outside.
I won't dance if you won't scream.
