do you ever wonder what's out there?

past the stereotypical clowns
living in your hometown

once you drive out of reach from the pests
claiming that you aren't "your best"

when you're no longer trapped behind school doors
where all that matters is a test score

rather, in a place
where you could paint the days away

a place you could freely tour
the sea, museums, or a jungle floor

the places in my dreams
could be exactly what they seem

I've always wondered what's out there.

You lay cloth on my lips
cause if you didn't;
my words wouldn't be comfortable to hear
I brush my teeth 3 times to ensure my lips don't taste like beer
its almost like a fear, that if you caught me I wouldn't be here
for you to lay down this cloth
for you to listen when I talk
to be like John Lennon, without the pistol cocked