DO YOU HEAR THAT RATTLING?
That's the sound of a half-empty spray can,
full of hope, just being blasted against a wall
that will never appreciate it's art.
This is the kind of thing that
turns a hard heart into marble
to carve your masterpiece into.
DO YOU HEAR THAT RATTLING?
That's the sound of a half-empty spray can
of whoop-***
about to be unleashed upon the masses,
who thought they could divide the classes
and make our lives seem like less
as if it would make their's seem like more.
I've got a little shocker kept in store,
life does not open doors,
it closes them.
On the tapestry of Canada,
there will be those that hem us in.

We live in a world
where we no longer try to deny that
each beat of our heart
is farther and father apart.
A world where we cannot jump start our imaginations
and let our thoughts run wild.
Where the meek and the mild can finally be safe
because the bullies have found love.

I know it's always hard to go through tragedy
when you have always thought of your life as a comedy.
Try as we might,
for some, there is no remedy for a bad day
but sometimes we have to allow ourselves
to give way for a miracle.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to say
with absolute certainty
that I love someone,
but if I can bend my mind around the idea
that marriage is no longer a contract,
then I can try to make contact
with the boy I used to be.
The one who used to dream.