Slow am I to recognise
a parasite when silently
he creeps into the light
from the darkened edges of a room
designed to hide in minutes gloom
till some devout and subtle soul be found
to share their plight
I'm listening as closely as I can
he will say
don't you ever doubt that I'm your man
he will say
he'll say to you with hurricanes
now brewing in his thinning veins
the powder and the night
he'll track you down and drown you out
he'll tear you up and vomit you
back out into the street
and wipe his mouth
with the back of his hand
and say to you again
don't you ever doubt that I'm your man
don't you ever doubt that I'm your man
He keeps a home officious grey and dull
with paintings on the wall
of harrowed faces warning me to leave
he stabs his fingers at the solid forms
that once a little boy could never disbeleive
but now we know
the both of us we know
the weak are just a toy for evil men
I cannot walk
I cannot touch
I cannot walk
I cannot touch
I cannot walk
I cannot touch
the weak are just a toy for evil men
the weak are just a toy for evil men
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