you target ones with a loose tongue through your fingers.
you find ways to makes us turn inside.
if i lose my ground.
i will stand by to navigate the escape for the silent ones.

so take it to the back of the bar you make me think what you want to tell me.
first i will say anything to make sure you don't.

you act less blessed, you are sympathies great deciever,
of the taste of your teeth after you sneer.
by the accident of approval we'll take a shot in the dark to kill the buzz in the room.

i'll take the side of the ones whose feet touch the floor.
you'll take the side of the ones approaching lines to create of life.

for starving eyes i know you will never make a proud home...