Little faerie, the ghost of a girl
hiding in the closet, you can't see her.
Little boy, forcing the tears back
as the bruises heal,
he can't let them be better than him, no he
can't let their words win...
Sad people, drowning in their personal coats of blue
they can't see out the window, fogged over in
the afternoon.
That never happens, but now you can't deny it.
People don't fade like that,
two seconds and then
the world moves on.
And no t
he sun cannot come up,
because I won't let it.
I am not allowed to live on because, well
I won't allow it.
I won't allow it...
But we carry on.
The faerie girl is cut down, her neck is red now
worn now and embarrassed when she sees them frown.
Little boy is better, his skin has healed over but
what about when he gets older?
Will his children be stronger?
Raised on the medium, they cannot cross over either side
stuck forever, the sad little people who
know better...
but they are still undecided just as
harsh wind fits all weather forcing the pedestrians,
to wear personal coats of blue.