The Same Pen
this one's a bunch of nonsense that I turned into a song for my ukulele but I think I like it
The chairs are swimming
Through the living room.
The flowers make honey
While the bumblebees bloom.
I tried to sleep but
The darkness was too bright
And I just cried myself awake all night.
Sometimes I feel terribly lost;
I just wish I was a carefree bird.
But the same pen that makes a hideous blot
Can write a beautiful word.
I saw the broom
Dancing with the mop.
The curtains told
The weeping lamp to stop.
I tried to think but
The silence was too loud
And I just screamed my suffering heart out.
Sometimes I feel terribly lost;
I just wish I was a carefree bird.
But the same pen that makes a hideous blot
Can write a beautiful word.
The sailboats sail
In the kitchen sink.
I swear I saw my
Great-aunt's portrait wink.
I tried to smile but
The sunshine was too gray
And I just choked on the fading day.
Sometimes I feel terribly lost;
I just wish I was a carefree bird.
But the same pen that makes a hideous blot
Can write a beautiful word.
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