A little hand and a little mouth

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you

that I never felt this way before

it all happened the night I was playing my guitar

a little hand came in through my slippy window

and the little hand took me to places

I never would have dared to go

and as I got so restless and wired in my soul

a little mouth asked me through a hollow

why we are the way we are

now the little hand and the little mouth have left me alone

I ask myself in front of my dull mirror

why I feel the way I feel

and I blame myself for what I have been shown

and I blame politicians and I blame musicions

and I blame philosophers and I blame jurisdictions

and I blame scientists and I blame joualists

and I blame all the people playing as small poppets

and I fall asleep in my tears as I make a fool of me for stinging fears

and the same little hand comes to my dream

and the little hand takes me to a door

and the little mouth wants me to open

I am standing there with my hands as cold as an iceberg

but the little hand and the little mouth find nothing to blame

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