The sky is a fading blue
As the ground turns grey I lay here with you
Our heads start to spin as the ceiling fans dim
Filled with pink thoughts of a greater tomorrow

But our color is draining; we're no longer rainbows
The door swings open and here comes the fables
That we have to speak to save our skin
From being stripped of our colorful sin

Does this seem right? Does it seem fair?
This planet is dull and filled with despair
"Be who you are, unless you are you!"
Is what the old men are telling our youth