The Teeth Collector

I'm unfolding little scraps of paper I'm dotting "I's" and crossing "T's" Like a ghost you were the gardener That snuck in and planted seed Decay Your world's acidic taste I'm unfolding little scrap paper But I'll pluck you like a dead bug from My feet No more voices on the radio No more waiting by the telephone Arrows aim to crack rib cages But your venom's weak in my blood Your poison scabs, coagulated Your hardest try is never enough Decay Your world's acidic taste I'm unfolding little scrap paper But I'll pluck you like a dead bug from My feet This tooth is rotten, yank it out Your words are cancer in my mouth This captain's ship is going down