Pack The Punches

You don't pack the punches like you used to
And I can't pick the pieces off the road
You were once the man now you're just a shadow
As you sleep with the drum next to the bed
Wake up screaming for the horseman's comin'
As the trumpet plays the march of the dead
The needle's blunt but your skin has grown thicker
Your refusal a betrayal to yourself

Whatever it is
You can't live with your own shit
Whatever it is
I can't live here anymore

For years I have scraped the sky
To the beating of your drum
And I have put you to bed
After I cleaned up vomit and the come

Whatever it is
You can't live with your own
Whatever it is
I can't live here anymore

You don't pack the punches like you used to
And I can't pick the pieces off the road

You steal all day still I forgive you
But I can't cut your fingers from your hand

And you don't pack the punches like you used to
And I can't pick the pieces off the road

You lie all day still now I forgive you
Oh but I can't pick your fingers from your hand

Whatever it is
You can't live with your own shit
Whatever it is
I can't live here anymore