Talons flex with angry incisors
Left with what I don't have advice for
Tell my friends I don't want to see them
Tell my family I don't want to know them
A gentle crop was the killing line
Shears gone by and it spun like a turbine
Absinthe minded with thrice-like charm
Lonely wrists meet lonely arms
I fought the jaws and the jaws won
Innocent greetings don't seem like much fun
Dismembered idles for the devil's work
Thresh and destroy when palms meet till earth
Open ears as my children salute
Up the rows my wife follows suit
Goddamn it, call on the land line
I tore my hands off in a combine
I can never truly hold you
I can never truly hold
Goddamn it, call on the land line
I tore my hands off in a combine
Land mine. Straight line. Combine