You painted me a picture on a canvas stained with pain,
Of sunshine, perfect summertime in times of cold and rain.
Your words are reaching out to me with hands I cannot hold,
And writing books of melancholy stories never told.
You do not see the beauty of the shiny nights you bring.
You do not hear the passion of the song your friendship sings.
Your tongue knows not the language of the loneliness I speak.
Your smile breaks my being down,
it makes this anger weak.
So cry a bed of tears on me and lay on my concern,
'Cause I would never leave you all alone to live and learn.