Green and yellow,
What the hell does it mean,
When it hazes over my eyes,
Like a lazy autumn evening,
I keep being called lazy,
And I am, God knows I am.

"Just stop with these colors,
They aren't very good metaphors,
Cause nobody knows what you mean,
And you're just a stupid kid,
Walking a lonesome road,
All your friends will die one day,
But not before you do."

There goes that voice in my cranium,
Spewing and brewing those maddening sentences,
I know for a fact that It's already pact,
I've got a future,
I just need some time to suture,
This broken underlying voice,
He doesn't know that he has a choice,
To be happy or sad,
It's been sad for all this time,
I'm urging him on to make the decision for happiness.