He-Art

He was a walker of thoughts a talker amongst the lost/
A forgotten apostle dreaming of impossible plots/
Improbable prodigy young blood dreaming light beams/
Star gazer of sacred shapes and women in tight jeans/

He believed in fantasy and extra terrestrials/
They said they were worried he said don’t worry its only a merry go/
But on the inside he was becoming scared of his dreams/
No support system outside of his own brain that would ever believe/

And so he spoke in alien coded speech/
Broken to most but to a few it sounded like a soul flow unique/
Believe me he would seek acceptance except he started feeling like an exception so he put faith in his messages his essence/

Was buried beneath an ego that was dying a slow death/
He began putting bait deep in his lines so the crows would come peck/
Leave a hole in his crown where his soul could breathe/
In a summary of blood he still hoped she would be a part of his freedoms he still believes them/

HOOK

Verse 2

She moved like sound waves she was a song you could die to/
Like an original Van Gogh painting intimidating and lied to/
With a mind brighter than her eyes moth men flew to than died too/
All for a chance to be sketched in her book of fine views/

Some said she had screws loose that she was lost to the moon juice/
A foolish girl penning dreams and stories with powers to move you/
With rivers for veins and misplayed heartstrings she made art sing/
Louder than lost souls she plucked and sent downstream/

Spirit and body hotter than tamales she wasn’t afraid of nets/
She had simple strong loves but she seemed to be afraid of nests/
So she would move with the grace of an angel with a limp/
When any monster would come across her path she’d offer them a lift/

The warmest dandelion wisp to ever touch his lips/
She’s a rider of the wind and a writer on the midst side winder in the mist/
He said he only had himself she said she only had her art/
Neither of them knew together they had the chance at a heart/