Grieves, P.O.S. - War for the Crippled lyrics

I scale the razor while I rope
Over the dead space and
Arrows sticking out that bulls eye
Tattooed on my breastplate
I'm high flying, tasting the poison
On the clouds breath
A little bit too nervous just to
Follow when that crowds steps
I break, break, into little tiny pieces
And vanish and you can take
Take all the memories and make patterns of em
And say, say, that you'll never think about
Me when they ask
And if they don't look like they trust
You can turn around and dash
And this is awful to say but I
Don't think you ever needed me
That tooth was through your lip before
You ever started eating me
Beatin' it downs not what you
Need to be taught here
I'm beggin you just to stop for a little bit
And let that broken record play for you
And you can smell the smoke from all the
Pain it took to lay it's groove
And fall into that place where you can
Die from it or face the truth it's silly
'cause I all see is danger
When I lay with you
The voices start talking and saying

I know they say happiness is a warm gun
And sorrow is a cold jagged blade
I know they say happiness is a warm gun
I know they say happiness is a warm gun
And sorrow is a cold jagged blade
I know they say happiness is a warm gun and I
Got it torn and it aimed at your face

How come your eyes hurt me so bad?
Mirrors or windows? can you feel that?
How would you describe that?
I fear I'm too simple how
Come your hands are so, so cold?
My skin or yours? no circulation, heavy pulse
I fear with every use to me my aneurism now
That caution so convincing, fully
Engage the arm hairs, drys out the mouth
It's alkaline, count the cate, that courage
That now's the time
That head devise, spin, spin
With a big fake grin and the
Skin gettin thicker by the blink
Know the ill by the stink and
The length of the beard
Know the real by the stare and the feel way
Know the real by the gut
Know to seal your convictions with steel
Know steal by how it stings your feelings
No further advice no cure for the vice
No feelings searing like spice in a con life
With the fears like contacts and
Never call any backs, what's up
And I feel foul 'bout it, but
So much lighter 'bout it, right?

I know they say happiness is a warm gun
And sorrow is a cold jagged blade
I know they say happiness is a warm gun
I know they say happiness is a warm gun
And sorrow is a cold jagged blade
I know they say happiness is a warm gun and I
Got it torn and it aimed at your face