It's tricky when

You feel someone

Has done something 

On your behalf 



It's slippery when 

Your sense of justice 

Murmurs underneath 

And is asking you:



How am I going to make it right? 



With a palm full of stars 

I throw them like dice

Repeatedly

I shake them like dice

And throw them on the table 

Repeatedly

Repeatedly

Until the desired constellation appears 

And I ask myself:



How am I going to make it right?

How am I going to make it right?

How am I going to make it right?

And you hear

How am I going to make it right?