Matthew.
Am I correct to defend the fist that hold this pen?
It's ink that lies
The pen, the page, the paper
I live; I learn
You will always take what I have earned
So aid my end
While I believe I'm winning
Our friends speak out in our defense
I pay ten deaf ears for two months' rent
We burn the gallows they erect
And cut the nooses they tie for our necks
You constantly make it impossible
To make conversation
We're comatose; we're audible
And I like it the farther I get out
We passed it off but it's all on us
For common conversation, it took everything I got
And I like it the farther I get out
Once said, always said
I will hold the past over your head
I'll speak my mind whenever I feel slighted
I am hellbent
I'm extracting all of my revenge
So take heart, sweetheart
Or I will take it from you