| The more I run the farther away it seems
|
| What is green is always more than a yard away
|
| Art is a mean meditation, staring at a blank screen
|
| In between what we mean and the things we say
|
| I gotta stay one step ahead of a losing game
|
| I’m a slave to the pages I throw away
|
| To create, complicate, it’s the same damn thing
|
| Once it’s made, I’m too good to appreciate
|
| So I try to put a little piece of myself in
|
| Keep the pretty people listening
|
| Keep in mind all the negatives and positives
|
| Charges floatin' round the audience
|
| I’m biting my tongue
|
| But the words don’t come
|
| I’m biting my tongue
|
| But the words don’t come
|
| It’s in the air it’s in the atmosphere
|
| I can hear but I can’t tell what it’s telling me
|
| Too many sides to a story, all these colors and shapes
|
| I’m afraid if I love it they won’t agree
|
| Art is love, love is work
|
| It hurts to give yourself to it
|
| Art is work, work is love
|
| Reminding us why we do it
|
| Art is love, love is work
|
| It hurts to give yourself to it
|
| Art is work, work is love
|
| Forget yourself for the music
|
| So I try to put a little piece of myself in
|
| Keep the pretty people listening
|
| Keep in mind all the negatives and positives
|
| Charges floatin' round the audience
|
| I’m biting my tongue
|
| But the words don’t come |