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Tooth
03:10
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Bare bulb swinging overhead
At his feet concrete speckled red
For the things that he knows
There are those who would step over any line
Pulled up by his hair for another breath
He tries to forget he was trained to summon death
Just a flick of the tongue
To release a glass globe hidden among
His calcified claim to wisdom
Hollowed out to make room for poison
A blowtorch-wielding maniac
Panic attack that he just holds back
Control, atone
Just a flick of the tongue
To release a glass globe hidden among
His calcified claim to wisdom
Hollowed out to make room for poison
Just a flick of the tongue
But there is no glass globe hidden among
His unearned claim to wisdom
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