Colors

i've never been
too good with words
and i only know about ten chords
the expression on my face
you say it's hard to figure out
i wish there was some other way
to say the things i want to say
when i open up my mouth
if only colors could come out

crayola box could be my soul
the colors breathe
but the words were charcoal
all their black and white cliches
were altogether all too vague
insufficient for to tell you how
my heart explodes
both then and now
with effervescent feelings
that no poet could portray

i've never been
too good with words
and i only know about ten chords
the expression on my face
you say it's hard to figure out
i wish there was some other way
to say the things i want to say
when i open up my mouth
if only colors could come out

a rainbow for the way i feel
all my hopes and dreams
in a greenish teal
all the gratitude for those
who have been there on my way
would be perhaps the deepest blue
instinctively in a perfect hue
just pouring off my lips
in ways that words
could never say

still... when all is said and done
i need to say the words i can
'cause afterall, my tongue is not
a paint-brush, not a crayon

but only if these words i sing
need not be said
just spoken for in crimson red
then the pallete of my mouth
could be infused with colors true
i tried to sit
and write this song
but the harmonies
just come out wrong
so maybe then i'd find someway
to paint my love for you

i've never been
too good with words
and i only know about ten chords
the expression on my face
you say it's hard to figure out
i wish there was some other way
to say the things i need to say
when i open up my mouth
if only colors could come out