Marieke Slovin – teaching artist, vocals and ukulele
Malcolm Brooks – story source
 
Malcolm Brooks looks up at the moonlit sky and confronts his own vanity.
My eyes are looking at the moon.
They are hiding behind these glasses.
Want to throw them down, smash them on the ground,
So the moon could really see me, the moon could really see me.
 
Well, I can see the moon but it can’t see me.
My glasses are always in between.
There’s weakness written all over my face.
It keeps me feeling so far away.
 
My eyes are looking at the moon…
 
I know I’m not supposed to feel this way.
You can call me week, you can call me vain.
It’s not, I swear, it’s not vanity.
I want the world to see what I want it to see.
 
My eyes are looking at the moon…
 
In my imagination, I am standing someplace.
I take my glasses off, show the moon my face.
The moon says, “Hey now, where you gone?”
“I can’t see you without your glasses on.”
 
My eyes are looking at the moon.
They are hiding behind these glasses.
Want to throw them down, smash them on the ground,
So you could really see me, you could really see me.
 

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