Little Indian

It's so cold, my make-up's freezin' to my face
While I remember something from long ago
My train won't come, so I look down to check
If my feet are still where they ought to be
And then a smile enters my face
And I'm back...

'Cause in my purse
Between the pages of a book
I keep the feather of a black crow
I'm afraid to damage it
'cause it's not the easiest thing
To get hold of in the middle of winter
I'm gonna give it to someone when I find him...

I'm like a child, exited on Christmas Eve
Only this time it's the other way around
I can't wait to see his face
When he opens his eyes
To find out what's tickling his nose
I bet he thought that I would forget...

'Cause he's a spiritual soul
Just passin' through
With a peaceful feather in his hair
He's tryin' to figure out what to do
His solitary honesty won't get him there...

He's a little indian, with his own team of gods
Providing wisdom in his dreams at night
His personality contains an entire tribe
He takes his love and his hate
And turns them into concepts
Of music and sound...

'Cause he's a spiritual soul
Just passin' through
With a peaceful feather in his hair
He's tryin' to figure out what to do
His solitary honesty won't get him there...