Skating in circles on a blank white canvas
A sliver sheet of paper on the universal tray
I look up to the antler branches and I mourn
I touch my head and feel a crown of thorns

On a diet of raw mud and thawed tears
In the wrong sort of spotlight for so many years
When will their perception see from greater heights
When will their shades of color return to the light

Not looking for a mate, I’m looking for me
What once was whole’s been cut by a thief
We must all be born, as little aliens
What happened to the white magic, please

Now I’m begging for some change and I’m starting to bleed
Blood falls heavier than tears, but both rest among the leaves
Now I’m begging for some mercy and I’m starting to believe
I should lick his salty tears and kiss his wounded feet