The Hand That Held Me Down

Oh, the razor in your apple, the affection of your glove

The prison of your company, the snake oil of your love

The heights to which you drag me, just to hurl your scorn

The trumpets play the livelong day but they blow so forlorn

Did you hold the hand that held me down?

Did you laugh at my expense?

When there's rust upon your ragged crown

Who will stand at your defense?

And when I unveiled my weakness on your rodeo of tears

You stood there so vacantly, your fingers in your ears

And you left by the morning with all that's left to steal

But every time you say farewell, there's breadcrumbs at your heels

Did you kiss the hand that held me down?

Was your kindness just pretense?

When there's no-one left for you to clown

Who will stand at your defense?

But it's ashes Lord, it's ashes; soon we all fall down

You take your place among the saints, make not a single sound

And on the hills that held our childhood the flowers grow there still

You lay beneath them pushing weeds and I guess you always will

Could you be the hand that held me down?

When I was sick with common sense

And now your statuettes are all torn down

There's no-one left for you to lean against

And ever since you epitaph was spattered on my wall

No-one comes to call

They can't stand the stench

But I still sing your praises every time the curtain calls

The burden on me falls

Yeah, I alone stand at your defense