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My Sword Hand's Anger

de Apostle Of Hustle

One day, an angel told me: Your time here is fleeting
Behind his back, a pistol, here comes a beating
His suit, his silk, flower, but my razor is faster
Hey Carlos Gardel, you been drinkin' Florida water

Looking for a new technique
They never believe I put my weapons down
Another page turns in the book
Another one falls on their knees to the ground

A message from the tiger
While she shivered
Like chord on a harp without failure
The bedroom must be returned to its original sailor
She reached for the lipstick in her handbag
By the edge of the sink
While her sad love surrounded the lady of perpetual squalor

Looking for a new technique
They never believe I throw my weapons down
Another page turned in the book
Another one falls on their knees to the ground
Looking for a new technique
We never believe I throw my weapons down
Another page turned in the book
Another one falls on their knees to the ground

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