A stickman sits upon his bed
His eyes sunk way back in his head
Like those haunting faces
Of some concentration camp
He finds it hard to catch his breath
His heart is beating him to death
A violence so senseless
He has no defenses left
A praying mantis in the dark
Stickman listens to his heart
Like a children's music box
Winding down until it stops
Stickman doesn't want to eat his food
Stickman, he cries so easily
Other sick men on the ward, they look the other way
Soon another empty bed
Fresh pillow where he lay his head
They've seen it all before
And he's just one more ... stickman
Oh, you are my precious boy
He can hear his mother's voice
And feel her hands upon his brow
How he longs to see her now
If she'd just come and set things right
Stickman cries into the night
But she's too far away to hear
Behind a wall of shame and fear
[CHORUS]
In this suffering and blindness
The milk of human kindness spills
And no one cries
With his ninety eight pound frame
Stickman doesn't carry too much weight
In a world where everybody dies
Night sweat soaking through the sheets
Nurses make their midnight rounds
In a metal bed that creaks
He waits as eager as a child
But the staff avoids contact
They all wear masks and rubber gloves
While the stickman starves to death
For just a shot of love
Stickman doesn't want to eat his food
Stickman, he cries so easily
Other sick men on the ward,
they look the other way
Soon another empty bed
Fresh pillow where he lay his head
You've seen it all before
And he's just one more ... stickman
