I'm waiting for him to come pick me up, see me and me and me and me and take me riding on a giant's shoulder, watching out over all I've yet to see.
Who doesn't care what the rest likes and likes what the rest does not and loves what they'll never know.
Who keeps me busy with his stars as he slowly gets to mine without me noticing before it's too late and then all I see are butterflies in colours I never knew could be beautiful.
And, who grabs my hand as we soar through skies filled with gay and keeps holding it when the night falls and I turn an even whiter shade of pale.
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