Óliver

It's tricky when you feel someone
Has done some sin on your behalf
It's slippery when your sense of justice
Murmurs underneath and is asking youHow am I going to make it right
How am I going to make it rightWith a palm full of stars
I throw them like dice (repeatedly)
On the table (repeat, repeatedly)
I shake them like dice
And throw them on the table repeatedly (repeatedly)
Until the desired constellation appearsHow am I going to make it right
How am I going to make it right
How am I going to make it right
(And did you hear how am I going to make it right)