A hammer to crash through what it is to be human Wield it with contempt or have it torn from your arm We are wolves chewing at the ankles of the world A fear that's richer than cream Hunt those who run Hurdling into clay hands (I am a weapon) Prayers broken at the wrists To provide me a life I can bleed on Liberate it from a future rotten with their breath Hurl their bodies into rivers Let their names be forgotten May no one grieve for their children Let their loss trumpet silent I will speak Let me make a promise to my kin The torn body of a man is not a tragedy Pain is their truth and it will define their death A fear that's richer than cream Hunt those who run Hurdling into clay hands (I am the weapon) Prayers broken at the wrists To provide me a life I can feed on Pain will define their death Hunt those who run