Cunning are the blind ones
Channels for the rhyme
Visions of perfection
Between the lines
Weighters on my shoulders
Pennies in my mouth
I've borrowed from my good days
In a lonely house
Waiting on a misstep
Look to make my move
Waiting in the balance
For something to prove
With a tongue that sharp
I could cut you right out of my heart
With a mouth that smart
The first cut is the hardest part
Paint it in a picture
Cast it in blue light
Cut it from your matter
Let win the quitters win the fight
Sweeping up the silence
When the verbal war was done
Underneath the rug now
It's the art of running from
Waiting on a misstep
Look to make my move
Waiting in the balance
For something to prove
With a tongue that sharp
I could cut you right out of my heart
With a mouth that smart
Cut you down part by part
You're chasing dimes across the floor
Somehow they mean so much more
Can anybody know
Why we're nose to nose in the snow
With a tongue that sharp
I could cut you right out of my heart
With a mouth that smart
Cut you down part by part