1-3. I’m determined to watch steps and tongueso they won’t land me in trouble.I decided to hold my tongueas long as Wicked is in the room.“Mum’s the word,” I said, and kept quiet.But the longer I kept silenceThe worse it got—my insides got hotter and hotter.My thoughts boiled over;I spilled my guts.
4-6. “Tell me, what’s going on, God?How long do I have to live?Give me the bad news!You’ve kept me on pretty short rations;my life is string too short to be saved.Oh! we’re all puffs of air.Oh! we’re all shadows in a campfire.Oh! we’re just spit in the wind.We make our pile, and then we leave it.