Made my way to the store
That always smells of incense
And browsed through all the racks
Looking for a defense
And I was strapped for cash
But I got what I could
I couldn't afford the best
I couldn't even afford the good
Just a pack of healing stones and six dollar bones
Back in my quiet room
I spread out all my tools
And whispered to the night
"Have pity on this fool"
Half a tarot deck
And some miswritten runes
Some tea leaves past their prime
Saucer cup and spoon
And a pack of healing stones and six dollar bones
But nothing happened then
And I'm no better off
No signs for me to follow
No stars to shine aloft
And I'm used to being cracked
I've never been whole
But I'm tearing at the seams
And I would sell my soul
For a pack of healing stones and six dollar bones