Childsplay at work
Bringing my kazoo
To the symphony
Among the refined
Sleek auburn violins
And brass, polished
Everything shiny
This orchestra must have direction
Some secret scrunched away notes
They play with this apparent ease
(Cut to me and my plastic kazoo)
I toot in amongst them
Trying to gauge the tempo
Attempting to play the right speed
As they strike up symphony no 8
And play with a swift grace
I take a deep breath
And ready my instrument.

It's a meager spread
Intellectual water and dry bread
As I read us side by side
I notice the chasim
increasingly wide
I'm out of my depth
I'm not half as wise
I can't reflect back what they'd like
I'd love to, just to try
To buy myself some extra time
But that wouldn't be me
That would be one of my lies

They were all just hooks
Baited and set
Waiting for just that one big fish
I caught the unique piscine
With my own wierdo scent
He swam up the bank
And sat there with me
On the wet grass
Right where you are now
Entirely lovely
In every Facit
I wanted to wander
Under his surfaces
He was in fact
Countless fathoms of deep
The wierd fish began to gasp
I helped push him back
With a primordial feel
As he slipped away
I felt the connection
Through the waters of the earth

There's a blackbird in my heart
I plucked his feathers everyday
Each new bloom, pointed and itchy
Grew anew
And I plucked it every day
There's a blackbird in my heart
And it listened very tall
It knew who hated me
And that was mostly all
There's a blackbird in my heart
That I never let speak
His song and tone were wrong
Like a record played on the wrong speed
There's a blackbird in my heart
And I hated it so
I would rip its beak off
But it doesn't let me close
Untill I read Bukowski
I dispised the little creep
And through the tears and sobs and snot
I heard a tiny peep
There's a blackbird in my heart
And it's time to set it free

I can't be blue
They want yellow
Mild and light
Or green
Who is understandable
Aceptable as violet
Common as red
All the spectrum of the light
In the realms of a kaleidoscope
I want to be melancholy
Paint over the azure
Staining in tones of midnight navy
Its OK to be morose
It's a part of the pallete
After all, you wanted to live?
You wanted to feel?
So feel
Mix it up in cobalt
Inky to almost black
Let my expression alone
I want to feel sorrow
In shades of deppest indigo
To drift on the blue spiral arms
Just around the milkyway