Chorus:
It's not size, or force, form, or technique
I battle you for custody
La, la, la
It's not size, or force, form, or technique
I battle you for custody
La, la, la
Sage francis:
The weak link is quivering, determining the chain's strength
Wimpering, vibrating! the wave length of its stress signals are more or
Less symbols. it just trembles
Knowing it'll take the weight when the chain breaks and disa**embles
See, mr. wendell? he knew nothing of this daily struggle
Sit under the disfunctional family tree and prepare for trouble
Could barely hear the mumbles beneath the ear-piercing rumbles
Sharp tongues slashing mouths while lashing out with verbal belt buckles
Friends crumble under similar circumstances within their own chain of events
From sloppy knots in family ties. the pain is intense
The tension is thick. two sided arguments are upsetting to him
Stretching the link, testing its endurance and spreading it thin
Trembling, holding onto what's "familia," in the italian sense, i'm reading intense drafts of sylvia plath
Before breaking off into an unfamilliar path
Faking coughs, divert the hurt by trying to act silly and laugh
Making light of situations when i sense a panic attack
I'm a fully licensed self-defense machanic, and my toolbelt is black
She probably thinks i'm dead. she's probably dead
When he left she said i was so strong, but i know she's wrong
I need back support, my knees fold
Please hold your end of the bargain when i leave home
Please hold the keystone
Sixtoo:
How far will he travel?
The essential interpretation watching the sequential falling of the dominos
Which one will stay erect? a microcosm where every effort is just that
It's just maps, papercuts, and the photos to prove the strength
He followed the family, alone as the next member
California dreaming of moving out there in september
I sit in admiration, knowing that the weakest link
Is also the one that holds the pillars on the brink
Of collapse. relapse is the replay of emotional disarray
Sustaining the stains of teardrops on his t-shirt
Sometimes, taking for yourself is harder than giving
Those who want to give up, living in the circumstance
Dance around the issues of dealing with the problem
Drudging through the uncomfortable streets of dispairity
All's fair in love and clarity
And also ignorance
Chains don't always hold the fingerprints
Sole:
Their hearts pump pure, and then sweaty palms tellin' lies
So blame it on a drug-addict, brother, and the cover-up
One can't help become center of attention
When everything is helpless, be realistic
Ever since the goldfish died, daughter can't see past the make-up
Stapling, "please become a savior to everything."
Photo album catalog, better order new hand holders
Follow the odor to someone older and less experienced
The whole choir is off key and forgets the words
So ask later and get a free subscription to a diary
Not even worth reading
There was a time like this when mother's tears turned lakes and grew tree gardens
Now overgrown, with homemade grapes
But at least she can keep the whole family together
Chorus