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?