Fugue

You can say what you like

About all of the good you could do

But your hands are opposed

and idle in prayerful fugue

So come on, come on,

I dare you to notice

Come on, come on,

I dare you to bleed

So whitewash your walls

and powder the marks on your face

The trappings of riches,

the sugar that masks the distaste

So come on, come on,

I dare you to notice

Come on, come on,

I dare you to bleed

Take me through to morning

Gold to breakfast blue

and I

will follow you