To Kill a Petty Bourgeoisie The Patron

two hands come so cold and ardent
to the sea they'll meet again
a constant telling breath
a roving eye

a few of few genteel do lie
what is that they deny
for it wasn't there
wasn't there
and really wasn't at all

broken hatchet called in lament
a misinformant paid this debt for
a rule, a rule broken to attest
till it must be addressed
not likely to succeed a likely end

melted heart so lost and wet
made a fool of me

tightened grasp succulent at best
made a fool of me

why do you wake at night
why do you wake at night

two hands come so cold and ardent
to the sea they'll meet again

but it wasn't there
oh wasn't there, oh wasn't there
oh wasn't there

why do you wake at night
why do you wake at night
what do you wake at night
why do you wake at night