Strange Brush

Strange brush paints me in ways that feel strange
Cold touch colors the look so deranged

Spring is the loneliest season
where newiness is always allowed
I shake my old dreams in new rhythms
But heaven will never make sound
What can we do with the crowns
of kingdoms that never worked out?
I feel in deep with it, struggled to see
through the crowd noise.

Strange brush paints me in ways that feel strange.
Cold touch colors look so deranged

I slept on the knife of your line
it cut away all my desire
The change we'd make in each other
If heaven would only make sound
you fell in love with the crowd
but group lose so rarely works out
careful to speak in it, I lost my peace

(Rest your body next to mine, I'll get right
Just a picture of you and I-Can't tonight)

The creatures released from their caves
Can't find the feeling the winter unmade
I try to cut lose problems I've saved
But I can't look real in this light, I can't tonight