Mild Child

This ten year old, smiling summer eyes

They win, they win

Well they're surviving, showed us how they could dance like an angel

There was a talk came on the glass, a sign, some young nervous head just learned to punish

Hear him come inside to hide away from these young haters on the wing

He sighed and tried to hide, but I recall the alien eyes and what that felt like

These little happy laughing murderers with delight in the game

But don't allow yourself to paint the meek in any kind of virtuous light

Because each of us is both of them, one blowing out, one breathing in