It’s coming up
On Tuesday
You know it ain’t hard
To eat from my own plate
It’s kind of funny
To look back on a life
That you just cannot change
This sedentary knife
You know it cuts
Straight in the line
Between you and I
This sedentary knife
To walk around
With no sound
But still to hear what comes in
Through those walls
Someone’s crying
Just trying now to record
The sound of their own voice
But I know…
That this sedentary knife
You know it cuts
Straight on the line
Between you and I
This sedentary knife
It cuts
Right on, that line
Can you tell me why?