A spoonful
A cupful
A bucketful sometimes

Want to
spill
a little
now and then

Anger’s a dangerous thing
but a natural thing
Red justice is justice
no matter what the meek tell you

A spoonful
A cupful
A Bucketful

Long knives in the dark
Bullets kissed before loading
A pole axe in the trunk
Garrote in the pocket

This time
we’re going to find
the right pig to gut
Want to spill a little

Spoonful
Cupful
Bucketful

I know it’s wrong
to do such a thing
but it’s hard not to want it
sometimes

Especially when it seems so easy
to solve a bunch of problems
with a simple moment of movement
directed at the right spot

To want to let a little blood
seems the human way
And most of the pacifists I know
hide a criminal within

We think we’re better off
without the shedding of the blood
but in our sneaky hearts
we just think the wrong people are bleeding

A spoonful
A cupful
A bucketful

I never would do it
except in the cartoon of my head
but I think it’s ok to say it
because I think it’s who we are

There’s a dog pack in our eyes
when the food’s running out
and we’re gonna snap
when we’re hungry

Saying you feel that way
now and again
isn’t the same
as opening a vein

but it keeps you honest
Denial’s just a river of blood
and there was one once in Egypt
or so they say

Give me a metaphor
and I’ll show you a matador
waiting for the shouts of the crowd
Who doesn’t root for the bull

while secretly hoping
the horns find their mark
Who doesn’t love the poetry
of seeing some oppressor in the suit of lights

Who doesn’t want to spill a little

A spoonful
A cupful
A bucketful

A room full
A street full
A river full

A mansion full
A church full
A country full

now and then