Where is the Rage

Into the Ice

I went to the tank tonight, reached for the fuel, and my hand came back empty. Huh. I checked the fist where it always slept, the mirror where it used to preach, the old cathedral of the pain, and every pew was empty. That rage carried me through every winter and I grieve it, but it was never what kept me strong: I was carrying it all along. Empty furnace room, warm house anyway.

Lyrics

I went to the tank tonight.
Reached for the fuel.
Hand came back empty.
Huh.
I checked the fist first, that's where it always slept,
curled up in the knuckles like a promise that I kept.
Empty. Checked the mirror where it used to make its speech,
that midnight sermon preacher with a bottle in its reach.
Empty. Checked the phone, checked the Friday, checked the rain,
checked the old cathedral where I worshipped at the pain.
Empty pews. Empty altar. Empty everything I built.
Twenty years of engine and they repossessed the tilt.
I was born with it installed, factory setting, rage edition,
it did the heavy lifting, it was daddy, it was mission,
it walked me through the winters when the coat was made of thin,
now I'm standing in the furnace room and nothing's moving in.
Where has all the anger gone?
Not here. Not there. And I was wrong.
I thought it was the thing keeping me strong.
Where has all the anger gone?
It carried me so far, so long.
Now the tank is empty and the man goes on.
Where has all the anger gone.
And I'm mad, you hear me, I'm furious I'm calm,
got my fists up in the shadow-box, swinging at a psalm.
Who do I fight now? Who do I blame at 3 AM?
The rage was my religion and they closed the temple, man.
It paid my rent, it wrote my name, it kept the wolves in line,
it was ugly but it showed up, it was brutal but was mine.
Now there's quiet where the sirens were, there's morning where the war,
and I keep patrolling hallways that don't need me anymore.
You want the truth? I grieve it. Put flowers on its grave.
The monster in my basement was the only thing that stayed.
So forgive me if I stand here with a peace I can't explain,
checking empty rooms at sunrise, calling out the old flame's name.
Where has all the anger gone?
Not here. Not there. And I was wrong.
I thought it was the thing keeping me strong.
Where has all the anger gone?
It carried me so far, so long.
Now the tank is empty and the man goes on.
Where has all the anger gone.
Am I drowning now,
or was it a dream somehow.
The here. The now.
The where. The wow.
The somewhere. The elsewhere.
The aware.
A bow.
I went under with the fury in my arms,
came up holding nothing,
and the nothing did no harm.
The river kept the anger.
Said the toll was paid in full.
Said a man who's done with leaving
doesn't need the fuel.
The here. The now.
The where. The wow.
Take a bow, old friend.
Take a bow.
Where has all the anger gone?
It went down. It stayed down. And I was wrong.
It was never what was keeping me strong.
I was carrying it all along.
Where has all the anger gone?
Same place the leaving went. Gone.
The tank is empty
and the man
goes on.
Empty furnace room.
Warm house anyway.
Huh.
Look at that.

Words and music: Romian Nazlab · A Bonfire Production