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