Paint the Skies
So I’m back again
playing Zeppelin riffs
until my fingers bleed
but this time it’s different-
I’m rolled up in blue sky
clutching stars to give to you.
So you don’t believe in astrology
but why dance around me
in what would be a drunken rhythm
if you were truly intoxicated?
You say love isn’t for everyone
but then revert to semaphore,
the shuddering of your sobbing
confusing the signals.
Help me understand why
the words are tripping over themselves
to explain how undeserving you are,
yet you make rainbows from dark clouds,
splash colour where it didn’t exist,
paint the skies for ever more.