you have turned my mourning into dancing
and i left my sackcloth in the river
because i would rather wear a ballet slipper than
have ash on my forehead
and (ladies and gentlemen, step right up!)
i will not soil my hope with mourning
i see light
and my head is killing me
because the light will burn away
all the darkness in my eyes and wash the gas mask
from my mouth
i will dress myself in ballet slippers
and my heart will be more filled with joy
(the funny thing is, i am not really happy
sort of happy
but i am, like a girl in a red cloak, not afraid of the darkness
for i will hug the wolves and throw down my heart to
die to live)
because that is joy
i will not fear
i would rather dance
than twirl away my responsibilities
and forget the wolves in sadness
and draw wet sackcloth in my mind
