Language Of Knives

Your words come down like cold rain, bright edges I can’t hold They rattle in the kitchen like spoons, and the light goes cold and old I press my palm against your mouth, feel the temperature change, the hush unfold There’s a hush that learns to live between us, a cold hush that keeps me in jail I can’t speak in the language of knives, I won’t trade my heart for the cheap kind of fear When your words bloom into sharp lines, my voice goes quiet, I disappear I learn to keep my thoughts like candles, and let the light unmake the things you say You set the table with words that fall, feelings that won’t come back There’s a song on my lips packing its bags, folding itself soft into black I watch the words you toss like leaves, they rustle and burn the truth like mad There’s a hush that learns to live between us, a cold hush that keeps me in jail I can’t speak in the language of knives, I won’t trade my heart for the cheap kind of fear When your words bloom into sharp lines, my voice goes quiet, I disappear I learn to keep my thoughts like candles, and let the light unmake the things you say Words can be stones in a river, they sink in the dark, and I refuse to be the aim for someone’s storms If hate is a flame you want to teach, I’ll close the door I can’t speak in the language of knives, I won’t trade my heart for the cheap kind of fear When your words bloom into sharp lines, my voice goes quiet, I disappear I learn to keep my thoughts like candles, and let the light unmake the things you say So say what you must in the bright, breaking light, maybe I soon get out of sight Taken from the upcoming EP "The Spirit Of Jazz"