The Fists Of Protocol - Grüvis Malt

So this is the sound that murder makes:
A cobweb sigh
enough to shut my eyes 
and make me wish this wasn't new to me.

So this is the sound that murder makes:
The hum of hope 
the buzz of neck and rope 
that speaks up when the public finds its prey.

It took some time
To settle in 
Brief introductions were made:
Blade to skin
Eye contact too
Right at the end
I saw a wolf dressed like a friend
Death at first sight
Sleep at the end of the longest night
I always thought I’d fight 
I never thought you’d


Send me bleeding on my way
Smashing things to fill the garbage temple where we shared rent
You left hands and feet to pay
But we can't cash them in anywhere

So I became a bank
A steel fort of endless funds

So this is the sound that murder makes:
The sum of soot 
the fear of what's afoot
the realization that your heart's astray.

So this is the sound that murder makes:
The number-punching thunder that the fists of protocol obey.

Maybe it’s true
Maybe we only sang one song
Maybe we’re first place in a zombie marathon
But now there’s a sound – a symphony of suffering
Spit from the throat you slit
And we’re writing our names in it



Now I’m a razor blade
I’m a pile of pills
A hand without a heart
And what doesn’t bleed cannot be ---