Christine

I start books from the end
And I hold my chin up for nothing
My crying eye is because of the wind
My absences are from feeling

I can't stand up
The sky runs over my hands
I can't stand up
The sky runs over
It doesn't make sense
The sky runs over my hands
It doesn't make sense
Under my feet the sky returns

They smile red and speak to me in gray
I pretend to have understood everything
There's a guy crying outside
On my face, golden powder

I can't stand up
The sky runs over my hands
I can't stand up
The sky runs over
It doesn't make sense
The sky runs over my hands
It doesn't make sense
Under my feet the sky returns

Us and the man, we're out
Worse than just a half, we count by halves
Right on one of the sides like origami
The stretched bar looks broken, everything is spikes and splinters
These strange children
Spit out as if by chance
Hiding the effort in the scratching post
And a creepy sound as a standard that says
I do all my make-up with mercurochrome
Against the pop-ups that assure me the throne

I can't stand up
The sky runs over my hands
I can't stand up
The sky runs over
It doesn't make sense
The sky runs over my hands
It doesn't make sense
Under my feet the sky returns