Can we live in a shell
instead of this hell ?

Under the ocean water
just you and me.

Can we build a home
inside of it ?

Put up torches and
decorate it with our
love.

Can we build an empire
of our own like people
do out on the shore and
build castles of sand ?

We'll be happy as clams
you know the sooner we
move and go* ~

Where did my words go?
You nasty devil,
Did you eat them up?
Steal them away,
When I wasn't looking?
Sneak them into a paperbag
And throw them into a lake?
You left me speechless,
And alone to my thought,
Indescribable and dark.
And where did my movement go?
Venomous demon?
I used to move like the wind
Like the water
And the stars.
In my limbs i held
All i ever wanted to know,
And was yet to learn.
But you've taken it from me;
Immobile and mute.
And where did you put my kindness?
Sneaky serpent?
I was one with the world,
I gave and I received.
We shared and were one.
Now i lay alone in darkness,
Wishing i could change

Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after, that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the colour of his hair.

'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the colour that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable colour of his hair.

Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the colour of his hair.

Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labour in the time he has to spare
He can curse the god that made him for the colour of his hair.