On top of the world
(Your world, really).
Music flowing through your ears
(You're too talented to play it, aren't you)?
Arrogance bursting through your veins
Every time you direct a beat
In a measure
In a movement
And I stand behind you
(Wishing to be beside you)
Carrying the ten-pound pole
My death or my Savior
Because I'm close to you
(But not too close, you could get
But you can't see me
You're too wrapped up in
Mommy's little fairytale—
(I thought Mommy HATED you
I thought she made you CRY)
And I am rejected
At the back of the marching band,
Slowly wishing I'd been born just two years earlier
So it would be my body you held
And not that stupid clarinet's.