TINDERBOX ROUTINE

[Verse 1]
The last Rizla paper's sticky from the August humidity,
my thumb got a blister from a broken beer bottle's pity.
Back door's propped open with a brick from the Capitol's rubble,
I can hear the termites inside getting into trouble.
Got a ten minute window 'til the shift gets ugly,
this little paper coffin is the only thing that loves me.
Packing down the poison with the plastic from a pen cap,
building up my armor just to feel the whole thing snap.

[Chorus]
This ain't a vigil, this a lit fuse.
Yeah, this ain't a prayer, this is bad news.
Got my grief dressed up in my work shoes.
This ain't a vigil, nah, this a lit fuse.

[Verse 2]
Remember you jawsin' by the Adams Morgan station,
said, "They're moths in the capitol, a doomed congregation."
You were burning too bright for the bulb they installed you in,
now every damn song on the jukebox sounds thin.
They want a eulogy, they want the waterworks and tissues,
I just wanna call out all their unresolved issues.
The smoke hits my throat, feel the heat on my molars,
this city made you sick, and my anger just smolders.

[Chorus]
This ain't a vigil, this a lit fuse.
Yeah, this ain't a prayer, this is bad news.
Got my grief dressed up in my work shoes.
This ain't a vigil, nah, this a lit fuse.

[Bridge]
I wipe the ash off my jeans, it's a useless kind of clean.
This whole damn city's a ghost in the machine.

[Outro]
One last drag.
Then I flick the filter in the dark.