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lirik lagu tiny tools – my golden calf

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these tiny tools that you use to punish scholars
do you feel amused by new sediment in place
bonfire burns all the volunteers still holding
mirrors reflecting our bandages of light
tangled old roots they all tend to never move
i can run, i can run, i can run
pick your vice. our menu, i am told half is true
sad for us, you turn to rust. no better use
calendar introduce the absurd to abuse
all undone, web is spun, my beloved one
all praise your machine, you shine with such a sheen
some for us to take back home, oh such charity

for the hour that you bloom cauterize my battle wounds
say you’ll miss, parting gifts, laid at your feet
all your snarls and your sneers, a routine to reappear
confidante, i call a truce, a drink to diffuse
cut through the air my arrow, find your way to buffalo
great divide with your supply, we’ll ration what’s left
gotta move apart from you, better light, better view
tend to yours, crawl to those that fill up your drink
only kinds that are born right
nude flesh exposed to new light
all vain, we tear at your new style
a constant search for rich caliber

i sit up high during thunder
clouds part for wicked words you speak
cruel enemies follow closely
a skeleton is what they’d make out of me
a thick cloak sewn to give me my shelter
tailor fitted for my lack of backbone
our own stench hovers just above us
a residue that’s left turns us to dust

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