when it's finished

he's a wheel-man and a grifter
but your fingers on the trigger
and you're convinced this whole idea was yours

the heaving pulses in your thumb
he's in every one
and when it's finished you'll be scratching at the door

this feels like love when you're in it
bound to the carbon in your breath
this feels like love until it's finish
'cause sin, when it's finished, brings you death