Monochrome the color concept
sits in my dome
like a bug, a drug, a smack of smug
a funeral home for
cheery days, sun rays,
a sweet melodic phrase
sing, sing, it sits softly
simpering and like
clockwork, orange fades to grey
like a steel-plated tiger
ripping feathers off a blue jay
the lights flicker,
I bicker with a man
says color's only rust
on a tin can, and I said whoa

quid pro quo
If my palette's gonna fade
then I don't want to know
so take it slow
turn your tail and go
you can always say I told you so

When I was a young man,
poor man, wise man
digging in the dirt with
wide open wide eyes, man
I was digging the sounds
and the smells, even
holes where tiny little ants dwell
I was a train wreck speck
with a craned neck
checking out the sky
shrinking real time,
blue and white and sublime
amazed, unfazed, unbroken
gaze didn't see the creeping grey haze
and I said whoa

So bleach with me slowly
we'll rust as iron fools
just trust that gathering dust won't fuck with our attitude
So bleach with me slowly
we'll fade from grey to white
just squint and dim the light, we're going blind

Monochrome the color concept
begs me to rest, stop
my mop-top, pop-rock lyrical quest
to keep my color from fading
to the stratosphere
get my back bent, my two cents
out of here
and like birds of a feather,
peas in a pod
I don't know whether we're together
or together at odds
like a six-shot shooting, you're damn tooting
discuss how this head ain't big enough
for just the two of us
and I said whoa