Sometimes I wish I saw life through rose colored glasses
Maybe then it’d be easier to deal with all the masses
Life is hard and that’s exactly how it should be
don’t take it for granted or you’ll be left in the dust, right next to me
I wish I didn’t see the bad, I wish I saw only good
there’d be no such thing as tears
No such things as fears
No “Miss Understood”
If I only saw the good in people, places and things,
I’d enjoy even the tragedy that life always brings
I wouldn’t have to think about all the past that someone else has
Or the road they have traveled
I’d welcome them with a smile instead of a metal-woven wall hoping to be unraveled
I wouldn’t have to worry about what you say, if it’s true
I’d only have to look you in the eye with ease and say I believe you
I wouldn’t have to hike up my skirt to wade through your old memories
I wouldn’t have to compress mine down to fit inside my own personality
Luck wouldn’t be rare and happiness would be stapled to your birth certificate
But that’s not how it is, no matter how you choose to see it
You choose to turn away from the reality of life
Turn your face away from the dark and attach it to the light
I wish I was as lucky as you
To look up to the sky and to always see bright blue
But me, I see the rain, I see the clouds
I see the monsters that you try to block out
I see little girls and their dolls with chopped off heads
I see little boys who are afraid to fall asleep in their own beds
I see loving souls that are forced to be ashamed of themselves
and I see thoughts and ideas left on dusty shelves
Sadness behind eyes that I can’t even begin to explain
Those on the streets just begging for change
Whether it be gold coins or the human race
We’re all begging just the same
Mothers who’s arms just couldn’t hold tight enough
Fathers who’s hands just couldn’t work hard enough
Big brothers and big sisters who tried to set an example
Little sisters and little brothers who were nothing but a handful
The more you don’t see, the more I do
I wouldn’t look away even if you wanted me to
The trembling lips retracting their own words
The ears that are longing to hear the unheard
I could see what I want and not think what I don’t
The steed would be parked right outside my front door
The prince or princess would come in smiling
and I would be there at exactly the right place and exactly the right time
There would be only one for each of us and we wouldn’t have to make any choices
The correct door would be marked and we’d hear no misleading voices
The days would always be sunny and night, always calm
There’d be no more shots in the dark and no more lost on the run
Families wouldn’t fight, there would have never been a war
the streets wouldn’t be filled with whoever doesn’t have more
The rent would be paid, our plates would be full
there would be no need to work yourself to the bone
We wouldn’t have to lock our doors at night
and strangers on the road would never be carrying a knife
The only way to get a cut was asking for a piece of pie
and the only reason to cry was getting sand in your eye
I wish the worst thing I had to do was go to bed early
I wish I could just smile and pretend there’s no reason to worry
There’d be no jealousy
There’d be no hate
There’d be no reason to discriminate
Everyone would get what they deserve
Without hearing, “Boy, you’ve got some nerve”
Fairy tales would be labeled as “news” and crime wouldn’t exist
Firsts would be labeled as lasts and you’d marry your first kiss
There’d be no reason to relate to anyone you don’t know
And there wouldn’t be songs about sinking to a new low
If everyone wore rose colored glasses, the city would always look beautiful
And no matter who was sitting next to you, you’d probably say that they’re wonderful
No one would be down to earth, because they’d all be sitting in the clouds
We’d have no deep thinkers because no one would even know how
The past would be a brightly painted picture
with a brush made out of new beginnings and hope
The colors would be described as “great!”
And everyone would be looking through the exact same scope
No one’s past is painted that way, with only bright white light
Some pasts are drawn in pencil and tucked away from others’ sight
Some will be seen by prying eyes whether welcomed or not
Some aren’t even sketched and will never be given another thought
Your past is a part of you, don’t let anyone try to take that away
No matter if you wish they would, like I do, some days
Sometimes it hurts, even if it’s not you who made mistakes
But remember, that’s the beauty in it, the calm after the quake
Those rose colored lenses are laced with expectations and fairy tales
They let you see the good in people, even if it’s not there
The hard part isn’t wearing them, it’s taking them off that’s the challenge
Just know that it’s a risk, either way, if you have them.
Sometimes I think I have the power to switch them on and off
and I’m getting a little worn down from always feeling so lost
So those glasses I set on the table, I’ll pick them up again
Because I don’t want to see any more
You go grab your pair, and we’ll rename what they call “folklore”.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:36 PM UTC
Sometimes I wish I saw life through rose colored glasses
Maybe then it’d be easier to deal with all the masses
Life is hard and that’s exactly how it should be
don’t take it for granted or you’ll be left in the dust, right next to me
I wish I didn’t see the bad, I wish I saw only good
there’d be no such thing as tears
No such things as fears
No “Miss Understood”
If I only saw the good in people, places and things,
I’d enjoy even the tragedy that life always brings
I wouldn’t have to think about all the past that someone else has
Or the road they have traveled
I’d welcome them with a smile instead of a metal-woven wall hoping to be unraveled
I wouldn’t have to worry about what you say, if it’s true
I’d only have to look you in the eye with ease and say I believe you
I wouldn’t have to hike up my skirt to wade through your old memories
I wouldn’t have to compress mine down to fit inside my own personality
Luck wouldn’t be rare and happiness would be stapled to your birth certificate
But that’s not how it is, no matter how you choose to see it
You choose to turn away from the reality of life
Turn your face away from the dark and attach it to the light
I wish I was as lucky as you
To look up to the sky and to always see bright blue
But me, I see the rain, I see the clouds
I see the monsters that you try to block out
I see little girls and their dolls with chopped off heads
I see little boys who are afraid to fall asleep in their own beds
I see loving souls that are forced to be ashamed of themselves
and I see thoughts and ideas left on dusty shelves
Sadness behind eyes that I can’t even begin to explain
Those on the streets just begging for change
Whether it be gold coins or the human race
We’re all begging just the same
Mothers who’s arms just couldn’t hold tight enough
Fathers who’s hands just couldn’t work hard enough
Big brothers and big sisters who tried to set an example
Little sisters and little brothers who were nothing but a handful
The more you don’t see, the more I do
I wouldn’t look away even if you wanted me to
The trembling lips retracting their own words
The ears that are longing to hear the unheard
I could see what I want and not think what I don’t
The steed would be parked right outside my front door
The prince or princess would come in smiling
and I would be there at exactly the right place and exactly the right time
There would be only one for each of us and we wouldn’t have to make any choices
The correct door would be marked and we’d hear no misleading voices
The days would always be sunny and night, always calm
There’d be no more shots in the dark and no more lost on the run
Families wouldn’t fight, there would have never been a war
the streets wouldn’t be filled with whoever doesn’t have more
The rent would be paid, our plates would be full
there would be no need to work yourself to the bone
We wouldn’t have to lock our doors at night
and strangers on the road would never be carrying a knife
The only way to get a cut was asking for a piece of pie
and the only reason to cry was getting sand in your eye
I wish the worst thing I had to do was go to bed early
I wish I could just smile and pretend there’s no reason to worry
There’d be no jealousy
There’d be no hate
There’d be no reason to discriminate
Everyone would get what they deserve
Without hearing, “Boy, you’ve got some nerve”
Fairy tales would be labeled as “news” and crime wouldn’t exist
Firsts would be labeled as lasts and you’d marry your first kiss
There’d be no reason to relate to anyone you don’t know
And there wouldn’t be songs about sinking to a new low
If everyone wore rose colored glasses, the city would always look beautiful
And no matter who was sitting next to you, you’d probably say that they’re wonderful
No one would be down to earth, because they’d all be sitting in the clouds
We’d have no deep thinkers because no one would even know how
The past would be a brightly painted picture
with a brush made out of new beginnings and hope
The colors would be described as “great!”
And everyone would be looking through the exact same scope
No one’s past is painted that way, with only bright white light
Some pasts are drawn in pencil and tucked away from others’ sight
Some will be seen by prying eyes whether welcomed or not
Some aren’t even sketched and will never be given another thought
Your past is a part of you, don’t let anyone try to take that away
No matter if you wish they would, like I do, some days
Sometimes it hurts, even if it’s not you who made mistakes
But remember, that’s the beauty in it, the calm after the quake
Those rose colored lenses are laced with expectations and fairy tales
They let you see the good in people, even if it’s not there
The hard part isn’t wearing them, it’s taking them off that’s the challenge
Just know that it’s a risk, either way, if you have them.
Sometimes I think I have the power to switch them on and off
and I’m getting a little worn down from always feeling so lost
So those glasses I set on the table, I’ll pick them up again
Because I don’t want to see any more
You go grab your pair, and we’ll rename what they call “folklore”.
