when i dust to dust.

where are the beautiful giant hands to catch me now?
i'm crumbling now and you're not even there to catch me.
what did i expect?
i'm not losing my head, it's just rolling back and forth.
maybe i'm dancing. you can't see the difference.
maybe i'm just a delusional happy.
maybe i'm dancing, but i'm not well.
and i'm getting sick as i'm spinning
and pale as i'm moving.
maybe i'm losing my hearing and you're fading away in front of me.
someone will ask me to dance and i'll melt all over them.
they'll take my hand and it will dissolve.
and the rest of me will crumble along with it.
with my little hand, because the big beautiful hands aren't there.
why am i waiting for these when i have my own hands?
someone take that broken record off the player,
i'm so sick of hearing it.
i can't dance to that.

if the music stops will you sing for me?
so i can dance.

when i dust to dust i want to do it dancing.
i want to die smiling, and i want to fall laughing.

i want to dust happy.
let me be happy.

play for me, something beautiful.
so i can be happy.
and i'll try to return the favor.