These hands were carved by a stranger
Laid out in a delicate fashion
So open to the wind, to erosion
Silent works to be done
With nothing else to say
These hands were carved by a stranger
Someday they'll give weigh
I am a deviant dreamer
The creator of monologues
Wind that's hazy and fog that's clear
Echoes from the ocean
Sins below the pew
I am a deviant dreamer
A scam that might be true
These masks are made of glitter
An elaboration of vivid style
Color patterns to remember
Faces that cover the forgotten
Bliss that's only plastic deep
These masks are made of glitter
A pain we all must keep.
I am a wreaking ball
Smashing ruble into ruble
Making homes for the homeless
Eyes that slice bricks, that slice spirits
The wake of dust and dirt
I am a wreaking ball
A conscious act that evokes the hurt
