If stars could talk
Would their words shine as bright?
If stars could talk
Would they only talk at night?
If stars could talk
Would they know we are near?
If stars could talk
Could we even hear...

The stars do talk
Not with words but with a twinkle in time
Their speeches paint a picture of the past
Passing along universal wisdom so sublime

Look up at the sky and listen.

This is what it means to be
A product of inhuman ingenuity
I'm not creative because I let my brain spill from the palm
Leaving a note in screaming whispers
Just to disturb the calm
We all hide under the monsters that live in our bed
You try to talk through to them
But no response is a silent gun aimed towards the head

The world just keeps on dancing when I silence my own song
A spoon full of my own personal sugar makes it seem better
But on the inside it's a new shade of wrong
Staying numb somewhere down the line of feeling
Kneeling to the window of opportunity blocked by another buildings ceiling

It's time to walk through these walls.

Welcome to my,
Addictive personality.
Where it's always
Just one more glass and one more puff.
One more bite.
One more show.
One more song.
When you never have enough,
The urge is too hard to fight,
A battle lasting too long.
I just don't know where to go.

Where should I be?
Who should I talk to?
Just look at all the drugs we do,
In the process of giving up.
I just can't win.
I don't want to...
Be me in any state I'm in.

Art is playing God.
The pen and brush have the power to create life,
And the power to take it away.
We are art.
We see it everyday.
Each stroke individual,
Like the fingerprint left on the glass.
Singing in color as we yawn the new day welcome,
And staple our now into the past.