The Searcher

I never seem to get this right...
These words, these lyrics, this love in la-la by's.
How do I provoke my feelings in hopes that you will see...
In jokes that are even thicker than they seem?
It's like I'm the only one who understands how to dream!
But I'm cursed at the throat, I'm cursed with hope.
These words, these lyrics, this love in la-la by's...
I'm too shy in this disguise of pain to get this right.
I am ashamed.
I cannot move you with the voice of gods,
You wouldn't want to really hear me.
People see art on canvas,
They want to look, but not wonder.
They just want to want, and want what they want.

Why did the Artist paint the light?
When here I am, just a grey color.
Dark grey's and light, with so many in between.
Like a black and white photograph's grasp of the soul,
They just see what they live and see.
So many colors they even can't see.

But I am just some words, lost.
I cannot sleep!
I cannot stop thinking about this dream...
These words, these lyrics, this love in la-la by's,
How do I provoke these feelings in hopes you will oblige?
I can't stop thinking of you...
Though, I have not met you, and do not know you.
It's like opening your arms to swim the sea,
When you've forgotten how suffocating it can be.
I know that you're somewhere out there,
Yet it troubles me.
What if I'm just in the wrong ocean...
And you're just a dream?