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