Saturday morning
Eleven-thirty showers
Fully equip in a
Sports bra and yoga pants
I’m not a poet
Clearly ‘cause nothing rhymes
Sorry about that, I’ll try to get
Organized:

‘Cause if I could
I’d show you everything
I’d make you feel the pain
Color you in the blues and reds of this heart
That’s when the colors mix
I’ve gone and spilled the paint
I’m a bit of a klutz, so now what do I do?

Saturday morning
Birds chirping outside
Thirty-five degrees
Dead grass touching gray sky
I’m getting it, you see
I’m getting the hang of this
Word-rhyming, phrase-flowing, song-writing thing
“Am I rushing?”

‘Cause if I could
I’d show you everything
I’d make you feel the pain
Color you in the blues and the reds of this heart
That’s when the colors mix
I’ve gone and spilled the paint
I’m a bit of a klutz, so now what do I do?

Saturday morning
While the world prepares to
Go out and party, I
Play PTX in my room
…
I cross the bridge wondering where I was going with this
“See what I did there? (Bridge)”

‘Cause if I could
I’d show you everything
I’d make you feel the pain
Color you in the blues and the reds of this heart
That’s when the colors mix
I’ve gone and spilled the paint
I’m a bit of a klutz –
How do I find myself drowning in purple paint?
Besides tell you the truth?