Tilting at the Univendor

I let a sparrow
Talk me out of the crib
Made of mannequin arms & sycophants
She sang her caution
Thrown against the odds
I'm not tilting at the windmills
I'm taking my chances
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette &
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that I can feel
One tempts the Saint
And the other takes
The sinner away
The TelePrompTer
Has begun to rot
Where I've carried the blindest items
They'll seem to find a way
To haunt you again
I'm not tilting at windmills
I'm taking my chances
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette &
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that i can feel
One tempts the Saint
And the other takes
The sinner away
Sung by the choir whose lungs are broken
Stung by a million justifications
Swung by the faithful grip
Of a million axes
Sung by the choir whose lungs are broken
Stung by a million justifications
Swung by the disenchanted -
Not faint of heart
Pray that you never find
A place to bury you, bury you
She put the feral
Back inside my voices
I'll take a cigarette &
Put it out on my arm
It's the only way that I can feel
One tempts the saint
And the other takes
The sinner away