Don't Bring Your Knives (To This Fight)

When it’s raining outside
And the grain starts to grow
And you’re crushed by your imagination
And your mouth’s a broken telephone

All those rules of yours

How many hands can you hold
When you can’t
Hold on?

Don’t bring your knives to this fight
They won’t let you win
Don’t bring your knives to this fight

The working feet keep time through the door
Another day’s wages made for keeping you poor
Six reasons to stay
(Seven more to leave)

(Rolling like a holy rolling stone)
How many hands can you hold
When you can’t
Hold on?

Don’t bring your knives to this fight
They won’t let you win
Don’t bring your knives to this fight

Don’t bring your knives to this fight
They won’t let you win
Don’t bring your knives to this fight

Don’t bring your knives to this fight