You know you move it
You know you run it into the very lovely ground
Will you be coming to see our world burning down
You're like a wrecking yard in a great meadow
That's been torched for its beauty and taste
Will you be coming to see what it takes to make us break
I don't need an advisor
I don't need to be a survivor
I'm ok with whatever happens to me
I'll drink my coffee
You won't ever make me worry
I learned about all that in grade three
We're dumb and able
We toss cane on the table
But you cut through laughter like a blade of bad news
Will you be coming with your pistol and bottle of clues
You can sing all your sad notes
Steal all my nice clothes
Tear pages out of books of poetry
The world goes in cycles
We're all dancing on the tight rope
What you do won't bother me
I'm enlightened
I've got my feathered pen
And some paper from the jailhouse walls
Will you be coming to see me when the master calls
Will you be coming to see me when the master calls