Worm Grew a Spine Songtext
von Elias Bender Rønnenfelt

A closing of the doors, the ones we′re dying to get in
The slip-in of the foot dividing west and east Berlin
You won't receive a compliment, no, you′ll take it on the chin
Each hasty misstep is recorded in the swelling of the skin

Spilled an omen on the tablecloth that won't come off in wash
You rinse, you clean, you bathe, yet not a thing will wet it off
While you pose yourself the hard-knock, no we wouldn't come off soft
When opportunity comes knocking, no more feeding at the trough

Unanimously voted in an autocratic seat
It′s brewing in the kitchen, they′re preparing for a feast
Fated for a banquet but the taste is bittersweet
All the produce overcooked, the legumes they reek of meat

Beneath there is a rumble, an unprecedented feel
Something truly wounded, something way beyond relief
Something that is thickened, in the vein the blood is clogged
And the stock supply of thinner's a scarce and empty afterthought


Holier-than-thou she′s an empress
Higher in title and in rank
I saw in your eyes you were tempted
Bladed and ready to shank
Worm grew a spine
just trying to get through the night
Like a burglary on parole
the blood runs warm, but it feels so cold

Bedded with an agent, a detractor in the field
Running out of layers, one by one they've all been peeled
Stated from the courthouse, they won′t sanction your appeal
Accounted you a detriment when you thought that they would yield

There are rats and there are liars, fabricators and the frauds
Huddled in the playhouse, rubbing shoulders with them all
Someone 'comes the scapegoat, take it with a grain of salt
Trampling wayward forward, it′s an act, a word of God

Holier-than-thou she's an empress
Higher in title and in rank
I saw in your eyes you were tempted
Bladed and ready to shank
Worm grew a spine, just trying to get through the night
Like a burglary on parole
the blood runs warm, but it feels so cold