Shekel

Lyrics

Bring the silver to the table, tip the leather on the wood.
I am deaf to your excuses, I don't need you to be good.
Just set it in the hanging dish and let the fulcrum sway.
A man can beg for pardon but the metal has to weigh.

The ledger is a liar and the paper is a ghost.
We only know the value by the things that drag us most.
When the silver is the anchor, and the anchor is the fee,
You know exactly what your conscience takes to set you free.

He pours it from his pocket, little chips of beaten white.
The edges clipped and rounded by the turning of a thumb.
I don't need to trace the profile, I can feel it in the drop—
My hand yields half a second 'fore the balance finally comes.
The braided cord is fraying right above the copper bowl.
It takes a heavy pocket just to steady up a soul.

The ledger is a liar and the paper is a ghost.
We only know the value by the things that drag us most.
When the silver is the anchor, and the anchor is the fee,
You know exactly what your conscience takes to set you free.

You want a cheap forgiveness, lighter than a morning fog.
You want to buy tomorrow with a promise in a log.
But standardizing mercy means we settle up in dirt.
You put the gravity right here.
Show me where it hurts.

It balances.
It balances the grain.
It balances the blood.
Leave it on the table.
Go on back into the mud.