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Painted Dream 
Medium
by The Dada Weatherman
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no we get now
we'll just be younger in our dreams
yea future's everything you know
it keeps flowing down like a stream
so let your pretenders choke on your dust
for you're the & the lust
you painted my canvas
like when you a poem
the blues of the skies the green of grass
all the feelings into one
you me that if something orange
it would sound a revenge
but i always thought it was strange
for you had the weetest of the rages
you blew the flame in eyes
& turn pale & cold when you realized
that is all we've ever had
& that's all we'll eer get
is no o-ther palce
to let our souls the sad
yea feet on a cold rock
i look the brown leaves
at the long clouds weaving free
we'll just be younger in our dreams
yea future's everything you know
it keeps flowing down like a stream
so let your pretenders choke on your dust
for you're the & the lust
you painted my canvas
like when you a poem
the blues of the skies the green of grass
all the feelings into one
you me that if something orange
it would sound a revenge
but i always thought it was strange
for you had the weetest of the rages
you blew the flame in eyes
& turn pale & cold when you realized
that is all we've ever had
& that's all we'll eer get
is no o-ther palce
to let our souls the sad
yea feet on a cold rock
i look the brown leaves
at the long clouds weaving free
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