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Worn out in the knees
It's the cruelest place to be,
she said, "I hear
The soldiers coming."
Hold these clumsy hands
Drawing castles
In the sand, who would like to be
King for a while.
It must be good to be there
On the end of that old string
They go single file
Just like we do.
Be right, go
Don't look down on me
Maybe I'll be great one day
Maybe I'll be great
Maybe...
Maybe I'll be great
One day.
Right across this room
Took hours
Back too soon, wiser
Don't leave the closet open.
Beyond the crooked fence
Such freedom
What nonsense
Dodging stones and mud
My hands are tied.
From here you all could fit
Between my fingers and my thumb
They go spiraling down
Just like we do.
Hey, never was a waste of space
Never was a freak of mine
Maybe I was right,
Maybe.