You want to capture all the pain,
But you don’t know how to feel.
Your misery is the world’s gain,
A story too grim to be real.
The camera shutters, the pictures flash,
The image fits the frame.
Behind the lens your feelings clash
The model knows not the game.
You sketch your paranoia until the pen runs out of ink.
And if the canvas fills up then you’re stuck there left to think.
Is your portrait missing color, is the shading cast to show?
Does the pain that you keep hiding have too much space to grow?
The vibrations from the strings you pluck
Match the heartbeat that is low
It’s just a matter of time or luck,
They’ll finally hear the show.
The outlet doesn’t matter if results remain the same.
The audience will always think that it’s all just a game.
So dance and sing, click and sketch, do it all you must.
Because someone will always find it, that much your heart must trust.
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 4:13 AM UTC
You want to capture all the pain,
But you don’t know how to feel.
Your misery is the world’s gain,
A story too grim to be real.
The camera shutters, the pictures flash,
The image fits the frame.
Behind the lens your feelings clash
The model knows not the game.
You sketch your paranoia until the pen runs out of ink.
And if the canvas fills up then you’re stuck there left to think.
Is your portrait missing color, is the shading cast to show?
Does the pain that you keep hiding have too much space to grow?
The vibrations from the strings you pluck
Match the heartbeat that is low
It’s just a matter of time or luck,
They’ll finally hear the show.
The outlet doesn’t matter if results remain the same.
The audience will always think that it’s all just a game.
So dance and sing, click and sketch, do it all you must.
Because someone will always find it, that much your heart must trust.
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