There's a little saying,
"The grass is greener, on the other side."
You tell me this with a brick wall between us.
My side has some grass but it's dead and covered with weeds.
You tell me your side has grass that's green,
And even flowers and some trees.

You tell me this by yelling;
Your words going up and over the wall.
At my feet are pieces of wood to build myself a ladder.
Your words, they are convincing, so I start to work.
It's hard and new but you keep saying,
"The grass is greener here."

You make it sound so wonderful, to be in a place so clean.
But what it takes to get there is something you cannot see.
I'm working on the ladder when I hear a distant clap.
You yell to me, "It's still green here!"
But I can't see the grass you stand on, I only see the storm.

I need to climb the wall to get to a better place.
The sky may be blue and sunny,
But there are storms that come
Where the sky is black and rain comes down.
And I can't see the greener grass
you say is under your feet.
I only see the sky.