Rose colored fingers open my eyes
And the cold sits just above me.
I brush the sleep with a long morning sigh
Wondering where my ambition can be.
Slow to rise, a shiver or two paralyze
Just to release me when i throw on a shirt
My cup of coffee stares and will scrutinize
And the burn of the smoke always hurts.
What ever, I throw on some old pair of jeans
I think they were once his own pair
Throw on the music, the room starts to lean
And the birds sing out side without a god damn care.
Throw a blank wall infront of me, a story to tell
I'm so caught up from the pigments screams
The brush glides along, gently yet so well
As I paint away last nights sweet dream.