"I can't get married. I'm a 30 year old boy."

On the desolate corner of a burned out street,

lies the husk of a China shop

From window to window, display cases line the walls

protecting fantastic figurines forged from the finest crystal,

the most delicate glass

Inside there's a little boy who sees a man when he looks in the mirror

He scurries excitedly from shelf to shelf, from case to case

his palms are sweating, his mouth agape

He's never seen these things before, but my, they are so fantastic

so amazing

The dust flutters through the beams of sunlight, like dreams before his eyes

These things, These things he plays with

Forgive him, he knows not what he does

Fantastic figurines forged from the finest crytal,

the most delicate glass

Falling through his fingers, out of his hands,

to the unforgiving floor

One small mistake followed by a pitiful gasp

A little boy in a china shop is all this man will ever be,

dancing in the suns beams with the dust,

forgive him he knows not what he does.