Iron Fist Alchemist

Freeze, the witness freeze pressed between the leaves
In a nest the anesthesian weaves
Crow, we all eat crow, filled beneath below the bitter pill
That the philistines extol
And the auctioneer cum alchemist is drawing near
And the gavel rears it’s iron fist and you’re still here
Toast our hero toast limp and comatose
To the brim of a thimble full of hope
And the auctioneer cum alchemist is drawing near
And the gavel rears it’s iron fist and you’re still here
There’a a man on the ledge with his feet of clay
And he picks at the knot that he cannot fray
And he hopes against hopes it would just go away
There’s a man on the ledge with his feet of clay
And he dreams of a place that he can’t explain
And he hopes against hopes he could just fly away
Sleep with the sleep pressed between the leaves
In the nest the anesthesian dreams
And the auctioneer cum alchemist is drawing near
And the gavel rears it’s iron fist and you’re still here