Third Coast Temple - Elway

If I am mad, it is mercy

To be alive not starting blankly

And stern as a soldier while, as you get older

Your callousness drags you right up to your hideous end

All alone in the web you spin

If you’re alive, it’s a wonder

That the current hasn’t pulled you under

And dragged you down 900 feet

From the air that you breath just to exhale the bullshit that you seem to speak

And brag about all the pain you wreak

Invertebrate, too weak to crawl out of the mud

So insolent, you fill your mouth with other’s blood

Bloody water seeps into the sand on the third coast

And pools around the feet of a tall, broad shouldered man

The town’s reflection’s like a crumpled up paystub

He’s making little plans, little plans, little plans

Hang my reservations out to dry, cause I’ve got enemies to make before I die