Cut To Fit

CUT TO FIT
(by Silvio Vinci)
First bus shudders into town,
Shopfront shutters halfway down.
Coffee cooling in my hand,
Someone's selling promised land.
There's a suit behind a desk,
Telling me which dream is best.
I keep a rhythm in my shoes—
One small thing he cannot use.

Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
You can keep the pattern,
I won't live in it.
Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
Toe the line!
You can wear your borrowed life—
I'm keeping mine.
I'm keeping mine.

Every poster knows my name,
Every offer sounds the same.
Buy a face and rent a grin,
Find the box and climb right in.
They sell rebellion by the yard,
Charge the anger to your card.
I want something they can't fake—
Hear the floorboards start to shake.

Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
You can keep the pattern,
I won't live in it.
Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
Toe the line!
You can wear your borrowed life—
I'm keeping mine.

I've bent enough to earn my pay.
I've swallowed half of what I'd say.
Tonight the words come back to me—
A little rough, a little free.

Friday comes without a crown,
We take over half the town.
Nothing polished, nothing grand,
Just a room that understands.
Someone counts and someone grins,
Then the whole damn thing begins.
All the parts they cut away
Find a place in what we play.

Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
You can keep the pattern,
I won't live in it.
Cut to fit!
Cut to fit!
Toe the line!
You can wear your borrowed life—
I'm keeping mine.

Cut to fit?
Not this time.
You keep the pattern—
I'll keep mine.
Cut to fit?
Not this time.
You keep the pattern—
I'll keep mine.