Stitch me up before you go
I'm happy for my seams to show
If the thread is made of you.

Why don't you do it?
Wield your conscience like a hammer
And crush my shell before it cools
I'd like to feel a little worse
For not being the right sort of me.

The Angry Man

I'm not gunna walk this line, old man
Yellow-toothed envy doesn't cut my skin
Yell all you like, but you're not getting in
I don't get angry, I just get on with the plan
This house is my armour, my soldier, my second-born son
So you go on with your words while I go get my gun.

You
Leave larger footprints
Than any feet ever could
In the sifting sands beneath me
Where the carpet once stood
You
Spiderweb cracks that race
And bite and wrap me up
In threads of silk drawn tight
Threatening every breath
You
Haunting like a ghost that never died
Or who died so dusty long ago
That every face is yours, and isn't
But might be if I just turned around quicker
Next time.

Maths

Gotta stop pretending that I count
You plus me always adds up to the wrong amount

Traffic is thick on the blade of the knife
You let yourself go when you hold me so tight
And cutting you off is killing the light

I howl at the moon and I blot out the sun
Remembering crimes beyond reach of a gun
Breaking the Sabbath before it has begun
With a conscience uselessly raging
So I bury knife in the soul someone
For the times they are a-changing.

The bankers and ghosts
That are tied to their chairs
With ropes and with shackles
That are thinner than air
But stronger than life
And completely aware
You're money may need some changing
Value your mind
Till it's no longer there
And the chairs stop rearranging

Now you're so faraway
He won't come when you call
The wire's so tight
That it cuts when you fall
And you've lost the way down
Cause the ground is so small
Remember what is worth saving
From this dizzying height
You feel nothing at all
For the times they are a-changing.