It's tricky when
You feel that someone
Has done something
On your behalf
It's slippery when
Your sense of justice
Murmurs underneath
And you're asking yourself:
How am I going to make it right?
With a palmful of stars
I shake them like dice
Repeatedly
I throw them on the table
Until the desired constellation appears
And I ask myself:
How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?