Canvas Video (MV)

I'll hear a happy lie
About your chores gone by
Or the key to the lock
For your heart on the dock
On the bay full of old jaded tears
My cloaked friends in Siberia
Who grind their own teeth
In a fit to make sense of it all
Their restless cold shoulders
Have formed into boulders
In in the need to stay a little more alive
And to their own canvas gods they tithe
They stare blankly at a pad
Write their emotion
"Sad"
And burn down the house of their brain
They just can't stand
To wrench their small hearts
They just wretch and they fart
If anyone understood them
Then they could start
I love and respect
That pushing and bleeding
Loudly hoping it adds some meaning
But the page you write on
And the pen you write with
Both soon will be gone