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This fool throws wet stones at me, insists on attempts to break my nerve |
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But I hate to respond to the anger and feed the fuel in those ugly words |
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They ask me why I say nothing at all, like I don't have any self-respect |
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I say "Gentleman, I'm like incense. The more you burn me, the more I'm fragrant" |
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And I don't feel the need to act violently, and I don't feel desire to fan the fire |
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You can say what you want about me, but I lace the lines of these times |
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With generous peace |
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There's a thin line between virtue and fear, and it's funny how they appear |
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Both demanding restraint and control and it's enough that I know it's clear |
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That I'm not scared of you; I'm scared of me, and I live by controlling my fool |
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'Cause you're a fool enough for the both of us, but I still try to find the good in you |
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And I don't feel the need to act violently, and I don't feel desire to fan the fire |
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You can say what you want about me, but I lace the lines of these times |
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With generous peace |
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I know it's hard to listen to the words you just can't stand |
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It's gonna more than a fist to enlighten an ignorant man |
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And don't you see how we fear the patient eyes of a lion? |
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And don't you how we fear those lions in their silence? |
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And I don't feel the need to act violently, and I don't feel desire to fan the fire |
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You can say what you want about me, but I lace the lines of these times |
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With generous peace |
