Broken Arm

I think I finally understand
 the way a broken arm can hate the hand
 the way a farmer hates his crop
 the way a lawyer hates the honest cop
 the smell of chamomile
 beneath my sickle blade
 will not comfort the cancer-stricken
 or provide some common shade
 I finally woke up at the drop
 and told the driver that he had to stop
 and then he got down on his knees
 you know these actors always die in threes
 the sound of dialog
 translated by a hack
 it gives me chills when she pays the bills and
 still has time to surprise attack
 Come out come out come out and say it
 why can't you come out and say it
 come out come out come out and say it
 why can't you come out and say it
 The look of camouflage
 on the ones who beg
 the decider says I'm a fighter
 but I can't feel my fucking legs
 lalalalala
 Come out come out come out and say it
 why can't you come out and say it
 come out come out come out and say it
 why can't you come out and say it
 come out come out come out.