I sit here at my window
I see life as i'd like it to be
but it don't see me
so i'll just go on sitting
you might call it quitting
hoping that the bad times will all pa**
but they won't
'cause my world's just made of gla** remember in the children's story?
"tell me mirror. who's fairest of all?"
well then you'll recall
that the queen when on believing
we call it deceiving
thinking that her looks were just top cla**
but they weren't
'cause her world was made of gla** in a bus
in a plane
in a car
in a train
or in our homes
it's really just the same we're always looking out
with a puzzled kind of grin
but perhaps we'd all do better looking in