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Aim


Forgive my friendly gesture
It was not meant for you
My hands are made to hide my face and clean my mess
When you have closed the door

I watch in foolish silence
Confusing dark for light
My hands are made to break my fall when I am pushed
into an empty icebox

And though the rain falls on my skin
And I am thrown off by the wind
The bar can raise but cannot bend
My aim remains

Reach out and take my scepter
Do not forget the taste
My hands are made to grab my heart when it is
thrown
Onto the broken floor

Cursed is your newfound jester
He is not meant for you
Your hand was made to put in mine and run away
To any distant land

And though the rain falls on my skin
And I am thrown off by the wind
The bar can raise but cannot bend
My aim remains