The Knife


The knife cuts a hole in that beautiful chest, Through the silk fabric in which you are dressed, The blood seeps away like the joy sliding out of my soul.

You gave me a story, you gave me a sign, You took from my hand what was rightfully mine, But soon I found out that you didn't have the time all along.

Call me romantic or call me a fool, For the blade and the hammer were only a tool, To keep you from telling I'm nobody's fool, all along...

You painted a picture, you fed me a line, You gave me a choice that was your place or mine, But the truth was revealed after one glass of wine in my bed.

You came along, swishing your pigtails; somewhat wholesale, But how did I know the barbs that lay beneath there, The scene was immortal, creating a rampage; on the page, And fate was the one who turned me...

In another regime I'd have set up the vet, Having left you alone with a dangerous pet, But this is an Island where everyone knows everything.

Even with this poor system in some disarray, I am sure they will give me an extended stay, But needless to say that I got my own way in the end...

Written by Simon Campbell
Track Length 4:45