Pinnochio

From a hole in the floor -- to a fountain of youth

You stepped to the door -- all your hair in your hands

Wet through the shoes, and the calendar spun

On the porch -- by the moon

Your words trailing off like a fading balloon

Today, you became real

In the quiet light, you stayed

And the child you found, you changed

With your head in your hands, you sang

You sang in deep blues by the window pane

With the whole world crashing into your skull

You found the darkest place to lay your weary head

And you sang Oooh...