First Cut

Cunning are the blind ones Channels for the rhyme Visions of perfection Between the lines Weighters on my shoulders Pennies in my mouth I've borrowed from my good days In a lonely house Waiting on a misstep Look to make my move Waiting in the balance For something to prove With a tongue that sharp I could cut you right out of my heart With a mouth that smart The first cut is the hardest part Paint it in a picture Cast it in blue light Cut it from your matter Let win the quitters win the fight Sweeping up the silence When the verbal war was done Underneath the rug now It's the art of running from Waiting on a misstep Look to make my move Waiting in the balance For something to prove With a tongue that sharp I could cut you right out of my heart With a mouth that smart Cut you down part by part You're chasing dimes across the floor Somehow they mean so much more Can anybody know Why we're nose to nose in the snow With a tongue that sharp I could cut you right out of my heart With a mouth that smart Cut you down part by part