Make me vent at the knees
I've got a phantom lung better than the other
More like the broach you wore with apocryphal insignia
It was better left untouched
It was better left alone
For the hour of my echo is at hand
Do you feel that respiration
It's blocking out the sky
Now there's no light to be shed on this painful labor
Walking with my old limp that resonates your ego
When I feel the resignation of my limbs
You rode in on a horse
But wouldn't form a tryst
Saw you ride in on a horse
But you couldn't be convinced
Tell your brother's keeper that he's in an awful mess
Tell your zealous mother to spay her tongue
Tell your brother's keeper his cuts are somewhat of a nuance
When that zealous mother bleeds for everyone
Now you feel that respiration
It's blocking out the sky
Leaving no light to be shed on this painful labor
