I am feeble, tower of bones One swift and dust to grace across these shores Grace across these Retract, rewind to build a fort To build a fort But increments are addictive A trades of sort To be wanting more But increments are addictive Take a drill to a triangle But swords do these fights So we argue what's right When morals take their flight When one day faith is like a language When swords do these fights When swords do these fights But increments are addictive He whispers praise of existence This flesh to please This flesh to hold An empty pocket With open hands But increments are addictive He whispers praise of existence This flesh to please This flesh to hold And empty pocket With open hands