the fuse is our anchor

somehow this made its way into my head. every step on stage. bowing to a chorus of bullets. keep the rose, throw the thorn. check my calendar, make sure every moment falls of a sunday. i'm choking on your point of view. their eyes fell out when they blinked. replace the parts of the microscope. with my hands, i built him. brick, wire, and all. but you wanted bone. my bones are much to valuable to let you crush. is it easier to applaud with blades?