The tin man falls into a pool.
There is no drain, he feels no pain.
The flying goat wipes the cloud off his pillow.
There is no hope, his life’s a joke.
The softest teddy bear becomes a block of ice.
No one to cuddle, now there’s a puddle.
And the troublesome dog I once called mine,
is in denial, and fakes a smile.
The troll on the bike can’t see where he goes.
There’s a brick wall, he begins to fall.
The skeleton is thrown into the fire.
Help he calls for, but fuel-they get more.
The leaf in the tree, the sand in the sea,
their lives begin to fade, identities they want to trade.
Sitting here just want to be free,
but there’s always someone watching me.
We look in the mirror and hope it gets clearer,
but we’re all the same, we live in shame.