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Painted Dream 
Medium
by The Dada Weatherman
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no we wont get older now
we'll be younger in our dreams
yea future's you know
it down a stream
so let on your dust
for you're the light & the lust
you my blank canvas
colours you write a poem
the of the skies the of grass
all the into one
you told me if something orange
it would sound like a revenge
but i always thought it was kinda strange
for you had the weetest of the rages
then you the in your eyes
& turn pale & cold you realized
that is all we've had
& that's all we'll eer get
there is no o-ther palce
to let our forget the sad
yea bare on a cold rock
i look through the leaves
at the broken clouds weaving free
we'll be younger in our dreams
yea future's you know
it down a stream
so let on your dust
for you're the light & the lust
you my blank canvas
colours you write a poem
the of the skies the of grass
all the into one
you told me if something orange
it would sound like a revenge
but i always thought it was kinda strange
for you had the weetest of the rages
then you the in your eyes
& turn pale & cold you realized
that is all we've had
& that's all we'll eer get
there is no o-ther palce
to let our forget the sad
yea bare on a cold rock
i look through the leaves
at the broken clouds weaving free
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