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This was the last song written for the album. It’s also the best song Hans Ringger has ever written. When we first introduced it to the label (during a rehearsal in David’s converted garage), the label president said “Good song, but it’s not going to be on the record. It’s too late to add it. There are too many songs on the record already.” We all said “Let’s take some others off then (most of us wanted Arrive Alive, After Arguments, Low End of Luxury and When the Feeling Fades off of the album anyway). Ultimately, The Spanish Dagger grew on the label and they didn’t want to remove any of the other tracks—so long as they didn’t have to pay the band more for them—so the dagger stayed and the anti-fame anthem held its place on the album.
The song content (and title) was inspired by Hans’s gardening work at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Arizona Temple. He always hated trimming the Spanish Dagger plants on the property as they would always cut open his gloveless hands and naked arms.
lyrics
THE SPANISH DAGGER
Well stop cashing me in for a thin line
You're right on track to know what it feels like
To lose more than you've ever gained
Charges pending further investigation
You've got to expect that you're falling from graces
Rehearsing all your persona will need
When you're front-page fighting for your dignity
I almost taste the the irony
How fiction replaces history
Use daunted glow to light your page
You say those feelings of doubt
Will never cut across your mouth
I know that Socrates and impurities
Are getting you down
You'll take all they've got to get your fill
Your time is running out
You're getting carried away
No one cares about your fame
I see the dagger in your name
Deny your roots for future rain
For future reign
Add one more kill to raise your worth
It's so sad
Because it's all the truth you have
Trade breath
For gold
There's no Armageddon
When pranks are there to relieve you
Why prevent yourself
Take wealth from someone else
Dare to incite yourself
When you're your only foe
You're carried away
Nothing's real about your fame
I can see you drown in your own wake
So pale, so thin you'd float away
I see you trying so hard
So no one will ever take your place
When you feel the dagger brush your face
I deny myself what I can take
When I can wait (and expect the same)
Incriminated
Your teeth still shine over the suffering
Deceiving trade
But the blade will shine.
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