To chase me out they would like
I stand across their throats
yet, they have no guts
to stare with their eye like a splinter
they keep the knives hidden
polish them every day
they would like my blood to wash their feet
and my eyes to crush the punches
I stand across their throats
yet, they have no guts
to stare with their eye like a splinter
they keep the knives hidden
polish them every day
they would like my blood to wash their feet
and my eyes to crush the punches
useless they whip my surface
won't demolish the temple
I even laugh of their fierce swarming
They dig me, bury me
I ,yet alive,
breath and defy them
From the top
it seems an endless comedy
