The Broken And Burnt Out Fairy

The Broken And Burnt Out Fairy

Do you believe in fairies?
Do you believe in what you see?
Do you believe in my stories?
Do you believe in me?

If you do, clap your hands.
If you care, clap your hands.

Poison trees of Neverland.
Painted faces of the indians.
Piercing hooks of the pirates.
Painful voices of the sirens.

The place I used to call home,
That twisted hollow tree's now hell.
My Peter Pan's forgotten me.
How the heck am I going to get well?

Do they know
I hurt so?
They left me
Completely
In pain.
Again,
I cry
And lie
To myself that I'm okay
Today.

Now I'm alone inside this cage,
Cold iron prison. Locked by fear.
I know I've got no place to go.
Yet I know I cannot stay here.

The racing shadows have numbed me
From the happiness I knew before.
What's love to me? What's life to me?
Now that I cannot fly anymore.

The flame of my candle heart
Is dying. So faint the flickering.
My waxen organ threatens to eat
And consume and drown its own beating.

My spark, glow and glamour are fading.
I know I'm dying, yet I try.
And in defiance, I still live.
Though I know that I must die.

Tried so long
To be strong.
Tried to part
My caged heart
From the pain,
The stain
Upon my soul.
My whole
Life is shattered completely.
Help me.

Do you have faith in fairies?
Do you have faith in what you see?
Do you have faith in my stories?
Do you have faith in me?

Clap your hands, if you'll help me fight.
Clap your hands or put out the light.