Out of everything we ever had
All I ever saved
Is the only lonely fact
That I am so afraid

All the lasting memories
That we made to this day
When it comes to love
I'm afraid I threw it all away

Not satisfied with the bird in hand
I'd rather let it fly
Than for this man to make a stand
With no easy reason why

Always lacking courage
In what I need to say
Is it any wonder
That I am so afraid

When push comes to shove
Is it done out of love
Is it done with a purpose
Is it ever done enough

Before it is this gets too late
Let me one more time explain
When it comes to love
I'm afraid I threw it all away

They've brought in a new factory to town
One for the making of clouds
As there's a desperate need for shady relief
To take a bit of the bite out of the sun's bitter heat

Where they're trying something new that's never been done
Adding splashes of color to add to the fun
So when the newly formed clouds swirl out of the stacks
They won't be the typical doldrum of white, gray, and black

There'll be purples and blues, reds, oranges, and yellows
Pinks mixed with greens as the clouds flow and billow
And just when the wind causes the clouds to collide
There'll be a rainbow of colors that will pour from the sky

Who woulda, coulda, shoulda
Beyond a reasonable doubt
Ever imagined what would happen
With a factory of colorful clouds

And I want to tell her that I understand
what it feels like to be fake, insignificant,
and a shadow on the sidewalk of society.

And I want to tell her that I also borrow
the experiences of others --
that I, too, learn feelings
by stopping and staring at personal wreckage,
like a tourist of emotions,
like an inevitable wish of a human being.