Who am I to say that there is no candyman? After all, he might not live in a big, bright purple hat He might be in the clouds, in the sun, or in the flowers The flowers you gave her on her birthday There we go up again on the snowy hills of Mammoth Unaware that the cold won't take a holiday Ignorant, infantile, we're still wet behind the ears We're running and crying for our mothers Clawing and scratching at the others And we'll be fine 'cause Maybe it'll snow one day and I will make An icy noose to give me life Maybe when we're not so scared of making change To be another helpless time Talk with the mirror, I'll be my own saint tonight Not afraid of needles, it's the blood that freaks me out Cavities caress your smile in sterile tonic brilliance Matriarch of the past has come to save us all It's not like we're getting what we paid for Carousels and poppy seeds have nothing on your light Living in times of plenty yet you haven't had A decent glass of water in only God knows when We're scared of not knowing where we're headed A person on papers that were shredded