No one would find me in the darkest light of the open room,
Every question begging where in the dirt you'd be crucified,
Sacrifice your morality in the sanctity of deceit,
So many years in the building, your destruction now complete.

We've surrounded the only question with a hammer to be forged,
Just the spittle that you've whispered in a shout not to be heard,
You're every sound without a signal, every bird without a wing to it's name. 
Hell, son, you've just about betrayed every bond you had to claim.

Not so many heroes in the alley of the dream,
Just another tear drop echoed my belief,
So you hold this stone against me, clamped in a vice, a broken bone,
Just another body for you to tally to your throne.

I'll burn another bastard in a casket with your name, 
Spit on me just one more time and we'll return a hand to your face.

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Author guidance for This poem

Make the bastards bleed, with the words that pass your teeth.

updated Dec 21 '08 by PaulMacklin