You people often misunderstandnWhat I try to relate in my headnYou're not listening to my wordsnYou make them your ownnAnd you fill in the unknownsnnWhile searching across this landscape of dreamsnThe flashes of green and grey discourage me nFrom saying what I need.nnAnd through these words I find hope with what I keep.nBut children tend to judge before they read.nAnd are you so swamped in denile to speak with no frame.nYou're desperate to shift blame.nnWhile searching across this landscape it seemsnThe flashes I see colored greed discourage me nBut I'm saying what I need.nnAnd you fight, you fight for art.nIt's your release for chasing stars,nAnd you're bettering the week.nHer fall for painting straights with honesty and vision.nAnd the music playing with feeling.