Pinnochio
From a hole in the floor -- to a fountain of youthYou stepped to the door -- all your hair in your handsWet through the shoes, and the calendar spunOn the porch -- by the moonYour words trailing off like a fading balloon.
Today, you became realIn the quiet light, you stayedAnd the child you found, you changedWith your head in your hands, you sang...
You sang in deep blues by the window paneWith the whole world crashing into your skullYou found the darkest place to lay your weary head.
And you sang, "Oooh..."