Fixed Position

I wrap my hands for another day
Not listening to anymore words they say
Cause when the chips are down and time is short
You better believe that the world is bought

If nothing else they’ll flap and moan
About how this life is not their own
But still they preach to the devils son
Claiming how they should blot out the son

Drain all the rivers and not look back
Watch yourself crossing the path of a black cat
As one day soon the heavens shall descend
When that happens it’ll be an end to pretend

So wash those sins so far away
Then rub them dry of each piece of decay
Otherwise the world might just sink
Then you’ll be lost within the blink

From a time too fixed to do a thing
It’ll lead to the point where it won’t spin
Shrugging shoulders won’t make the change
But it just might shift you to do a thing