Is it turning gray those skies
or has the sun begun to drift towards the ground
is that a raindrop or a tear
or just a bubble in my beer
I promise that I'll never make a sound
I never quite believed what I know is really true
I'm periphery to you
Living like a horror movie I keep on coming back
What looks good with the weather don't look good on me
Living like a perennial flower keep on growing back
Keep on keep on picking picking me
picking me pick me pick me
Could you please turn true my lies
or humor me by telling me my world is round
is that a smile or a smirk
am I a hero or a jerk
I promise that I'll never shrink your crown (again)
I never quite divined what I accept to be the truth
I bow to you
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