Trying to Human

The words inside my head are colors
which makes it hard to speak straight
The sounds spill and hues scatter
But the words fix themselves late

I tend to stutter and my words break
Even at times that I feel brave
I could see the words inside my head
But not in the way they’re supposed to behave

The words inside my head are colors
and the images are songs
Maybe that’s why when i try to speak
they all sound so wrong

Because maybe they weren’t meant to be just words
Maybe they weren’t meant to be limited by my voice
When every single thought in my head
Seems to have a life of their own by choice

The words inside my head are colors
It’s kind of hard to explain
The air stands like a grey old canvas
where i can paint over the rain

The visions played by my soul are music
that my tongue doesn’t know how to tune
But why would i want to lasso comets
when I’m already on the moon?

The words inside my head are colors
and galaxies hide behind my eyes
You can’t really blame that i tend to stutter
when i feel like a whole universe in disguise