I am living behind an inch of glass.
It wouldn't be so hard to break if I would just remember
How to move my arms.

And I'm all alone in here,
Though I see the young men as they all walk past
And they obey the plaque that so politely asks
"Please Don't Touch."

And if I cry
They won't notice, cause
They just don't pay attention
Or they'll laugh
Because I"m just made of wax.