|
sometimes i could see |
|
how cutting an ear off might |
|
be the most productive and satisfying thing |
|
to do because sometimes |
|
i feel my insides are heavy |
|
as heaven must be on the sky |
|
i paint a starry night |
|
i seal my heart in the brightest colors |
|
i hope someone finds it |
|
there and it makes them feel the way |
|
i do it could be that would |
|
be enough wednesdays |
|
he feels just like a lack-a-day |
|
trying too hard all week |
|
but he's got no money |
|
to show so he makes himself |
|
squeeze into the pocket |
|
of a flock of pants |
|
fits just like a rock inside |
|
a shoe in everyone |
|
he falls right through |
|
so he paints a starry night seals |
|
his heart in the brightest colors |
|
hopes someone finds it there |
|
and it makes them cry |
|
makes them want to take him home |
|
to dinner like a long lost lover |
|
like an only child |
|
like his younger brother |
|
it could be that would |
|
be enough sometimes when |
|
he feels his insides are heavy |
|
as heaven must be on the sky |
|
he goes to the familiar emptiness |
|
of a blank canvas to fill |
|
it with the riches |
|
of a lonely poor man |
|
he steals into his brushes |
|
to make his life |
|
amend he paints |
|
a starry night seals |
|
his heart in the brightest colors |
|
hopes someone finds it |
|
there and it makes them cry |
|
makes them want |
|
to take him home |
|
for dinner like a long lost lover |
|
like an only child |
|
like his younger brother |
|
like a soul unfurled |
|
like his favorite girl |
|
out of this cold cold world |
|
it could be that would |
|
be enough |