I'm a little lonely girl carved all out of wood.
A mistake you won't destroy although you probably should.
Mannequins are models, just in a different way.
Why am I still talking when there's nothing left to say?
I'm a little snow man, with a carrot for my nose.
Someday soon I'll melt away, as every snowflake knows,
but until then, I'll stand here and watch the world go by
Until the sun comes out again, that's when I get to die.
I'm one of twenty-four blackbirds inside a giant pie.
We're all baked inside it, though I can hardly fathom why.
A dainty dish is what we are, set here before the king,
but if we've been baked alive, then how are we to sing?
I'm a single raindrop, falling from a cloud.
I can't wait to get to earth, the thunder's really loud.
It's amazing that I get to help the grass to grow,
and I get to help clean up all that goddamn snow.
I am just a whisper, floating on the breeze.
A little metal figurine, that no one ever sees.
A lost love note, a missing key, a feather from a crow,
so many little stories that none of you will ever know.
The beaty of this world comes not from you and I.
It's found in all the little things we leave here when we die.
A single note of music, frost upon the window glass.
Such beauty lingers on, long after our memories past.
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