The thing with egos
Is you expected me to wait
In your magician’s box, couldn’t wait
To slide each sword in
But I belong, finally, to a cleaner fate
Without your hands, grenades
To grip me in your own loss
If I cracked you open like a lobster,
Scooping out the meat
I’d still try to bring you back to life
Because now I’m the boss
And you’ll cry out, you’ll pull your syncopal
Rabbits from your top hat
But I have grown the guts to reject you
I know, you can’t believe that