Foggy Mountain

Who's that skinny boy with his chin on his collar trying not to exist?
He has no friends to dance with.

Inside the kids all shuffle wearing skin.
Outside, waiting, a lonely skeleton,

For his mom to pick him up and take him home and end the looks
Until he's safe in bed
To worry about his bones.
Sometimes I feel like I don't fit in
But at least I'll never be stuck inside my skin.

They're not like me.
I'm not like them,
But surely

There must be
A place where skeletons
Can dance with other skeletons