Cold Press Rail

I quit my shoes for a big boat baby
Now I’ve my hands on a cold press rail
I cut my shape out of plastic and nylon
Now I’ve a cage made of rosewood and steel
I have a knife for a cuff that can capture
And I have a cuff for a collar that hails
I have my states you have worlds you attain
So I drank my thimble and ordered a pail
I let my feet fall from four forty stories
Onto a platform of solder and steam
I have a brow that was born to betray me
And I may be gone but not quite to bury
I have my states you have worlds you attain
More then the crumbs that I’ve bled for this evening
I saw a true life just lie dead before me
So I called it god and know now I’m its son