Crooked Crown - Open Hand

If I could find a cure for your disease

I’d keep it to myself and oversleep

And I would brush it slowly through your hair

Don’t despair

And I could sell your manuscript away

Shatter to the lowest bid today

Or toss it down the stairs into your yard, to discard

You are not a mystery

More a tragic comedy

The next day you rise (x4)

Hold me down, I’m your clown

You refuse to wear your crooked crown

But when she cries at night

Goals are in her sight

But she won’t set it out or get it done

It just keeps her broken down

She’s trapped inside tensions from her life

She can’t get around, get around

I don’t see you breaking down

Not right… I'm right

Goals are in her sight

But she won’t set it out or get it done

It just keeps her broken down

She’s trapped inside tensions from her life

She can’t get around, get around

I don’t see you breaking down

Not right… I'm right

The next day your rise (x4)