Curled up like a vine, trying to find it A load of old joy lifting me I'm worse for wear down at heel All you people make me ill You're not really touching me, shapeshifting Cut me out, twist my arm I work like a machine, plaster lace and painted hands Cut me out, twist my arm You hold me in your mind, the wind blows through Screaming inside, floating above Watching the lights, floating above Shapeshifting, shapeshifting