i am calling fear's name

i am calling fears name

and he has turned around and said

"you wanna peice of me?"

now i have to fight

i am armed with enough

(but it is dribbling through my fingers)

i am armed with my tender soul
(but yesterday it was blown around in the library by the man who bent too close, by the woman who sighed too loudly by the smell of someone's too old perfume)

i am armed with love

(but is that enough?)

fear has bought death into his corner and it doesn't feel like a fair fight