like a girl in a red cloak

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