The Hand, the Furnace, the Straight Face

The Hand, the Furnace, the Straight Face
Quiet
It's 4 AM
I was
Sound asleep
Trying
To hunt the sheep
There is a choice
Within a voice
Lurking somewhere between

Hidden parts
And facial scars
And remnants of the
deepest needs
I am convinced
In sleeplessness
That we need some
source of rest
Following
With frequency
Won't become a
place to lay our
heads
CHORUS
I've searched
And tried
And tumbled in the midst
I've swallowed pride
And nullified
What's left of innocence
Reparations
Won't be made
We'll set a precedent
Never to late
To recreate
So here's your evidence
Am I getting through?
Is this loud enough?
Any means
By all extremes
This feeling
follows action
You can take
My worst mistakes
And use them for excuses
Or you can try
To realize
This vessel's by
itself is
worthless
CHORUS
I've searched
And tried
And tumbled in the midst
I've swallowed pride
And nullified
What's left of innocence
Reparations
Won't be made
We'll set a precedent
Never to late
To recreate
So here's your evidence

The hand,
the furnace
the straight face
The hand,
the furnace
the straight face
The hand (I've searched)
the furnace (And tried)
the straight face (And tumbled in the midst)
The hand (I've searched)
the furnace (And tried)
the straight face (And tumbled in the midst)
CHORUS
I've searched
And tried
And tumbled in the midst
I've swallowed pride
And nullified
What's left of innocence
Reparations
Won't be made
We'll set a precedent
Never to late
To recreate
So here's your evidence
The hand (I've searched)
the furnace (And tried)
the straight face (And tumbled in the midst)
The hand (I've searched)
the furnace (And tried)
the straight face (And tumbled in the midst)