a shooting star in the sky

stopped to ask your name

but you didn't give an answer

always afraid of fame



you're a clip in the paper

you're a picture in her living room and

your scent is vaguely familiar

to her who cradled you in her womb



the magnet mississippi stole your breath

as you sunk into it's lonely depths

this final image of you freezes

where you're surrounded by jewels and missing pieces



you're a clip in the paper

you're a picture in her living room and

your scent is vaguely familiar

to her who cradled you in her womb



sometimes the daydreams are worse then the nightmares

for in the night at least you reappear

you may be voiceless, disfigured, disadvantaged, but you're here



you're a clip in the paper

you're a picture in her living room and

your scent is vaguely familiar

to her who cradled you in her womb