Comeback
Made of broken glass
And false prophecies
I sharpen my elbows
With a rustic knife
Bone on bone
Until I can puncture the wall
Ice, stone, both
Locked into a battle
A thought on the brink of death
Reflecting off my sharpened glass
I see you
I see you
Standing atop the ticking clock
I'll give you a hand
A moment of my time
Life will bend and crack
But I'll hold on
I'll try
Even if I fall
I'll catch myself on my sharpened elbows
Sharpened with a bone saw.
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