It's tricky when You feel someone Has done something On your behalf It's slippery when Your sense of justice Murmurs underneath And is asking you: How am I going to make it right? With a palm full of stars I throw them like dice Repeatedly I shake them like dice And throw them on the table Repeatedly Repeatedly Until the desired constellation appears And I ask myself: How am I going to make it right? How am I going to make it right? How am I going to make it right? And you hear How am I going to make it right?