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Splayed there With a nail sticking out of my hand Stuck in the ground I got to thinking of all the worse scrapes I'd been in Getting your ass out of the fire Paying for it with my rank, my name, my other self And in return, you turn an inward grin As my shins wriggle The sharpness rusts its way Infecting the same hand I used for spanking Which is a kind of karma If you but believe In the backside of a bad joke And that's me In between the kicker and the punch The line you signed me with As you walked Hammer in hand Blood pumping in a grin |