Certain Lines

These hawks around me are looking for some blood
But what's the point of taking a heart that won't bleed?
They came from nowhere and dove for the ground
While philosophers whistle away
They contemplate on the flip of a dime
While the bullet's gone, the chamber's free

It's often taken by the ones who make it
Disarming though, my bitter taste
It's often taken by the ones who fake it
Dishonest folk, they get their way without me

Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my foot on the throat
My foot lay in the noise, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah
Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my two fingers crossed
But you won't come here no more, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah

These hawks surround, they're looking for some drugs
But what's there left to take when it's all there for me?
Its margins grow, no one pushing back at them
They understand, the prophets of pain
They rise again on the purpose of timing
We're always wrong, what will be, will be

It's often taken by the ones to make it
Disarming folks, they get their way without me

Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my foot on the throat
My foot lay in the noise, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah
Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my two fingers crossed
But you won't come here no more, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah
It's often taken by the ones who can break it
These honest thoughts measure their way in ounces
It's often taken by the ones to make it
These honest folks, they get away without me

Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my foot on the throat
My foot lay in the noise, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah
Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my two fingers crossed
But you don't come here no more, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah

Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my foot on the throat
My foot lay in the noise, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah
Behold the way of the fog, I wake, my ducks in a row
I have a whole life to grow, whoa-whoa, whoa, yeah