might I turn this day around
you know, stop the voices
make a plan
clear all skeletons hiding in those empty shell's
humans and their crazy wish and well's
So I turned, fell down, got up again
and through the proces didn't like the mirror
looking back, so, took it down
him, and all other mystified
looking-glass-a-likes
I know, it shows
the Story's getting old
but I'm outshined in this rusty cage
'don't you like my butterfly dress love?'
'or the honey in my hair?'
some creepy voice answers;
'take you med's, damn Lily, there over there'
