These Filthy Hands

Haphazardly tumbling hard, fall right down laugh
Out loud. All in the scheme of things, we're all looking
Up growing tall (It's like pulling one hair)
You are what you are to me (With wet fingers)
In my eyes you're a star (Petroleum Jelly)
You're something I'll never be (and watch the rain dance)
You're something I'm frightened of...
I've got to get clean, the rain will cleanse me, and I've
Got to wash, these filthy hands
Because it's all, just a futile plan, that would mean I'd have
To believe again, It's like a career to breathe. An existence
I can't conceive emotionless as in slug in my imagined
Oblivion (it's as much fun as poking at a nerve)
You would swear, that I could walk and talk
(No one wants to fail but no one wants to work)
But I doubt you will ever (Vocabulary)
(Test is graded on a curve)
Ever prove enough (Smartest kid is stupid, word is never heard)
I doubt you will ever prove it!
I've got to get clean, the rain will cleanse me. And I've got to
Wash, these filthy hands. All these thoughs and feelings
Are for naught unappealing so you expect them to dull
And fade still they remain caught waiting for the rain
Time devours life, with my soul as the defendany don't
Catch me if I fall I may have jumped, you never know,
You don't know me at all... at all.