Senses Fail

I give blood to prove to myself
That I can matter to somebody else.
Is what makes a man the dirt on his hands?
If so, don"t put you"re faith in the dessert sand,
because the wind is always blowing
There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that"s where I hung ambition
Is it luck that"s knocking right on my back door?
Because I"ve been breaking mirrors since 1984
I walk under ladders, I spill salt on sores
and I open my umbrella even when I am indoors
So give me seven more
I give blood not for the cause but to slowly give up the person I was
Holding my breath won"t help, everything went to hell
So now I steal back pennies from the well