Laying here, looking at my ceiling
thinking about nothing, really
but wondering why I suddenly have this feeling
Looking at this terrible paint job
What on Earth was he thinking?
This ceiling was painted by slob
But as I lie here, I notice the cracks
Cracks that hold the white, that was left behind
And I think about how much technique this lacks
Why were you even in my room?
Messing up the only thing I see each night
This was your plan all along, I assume
Causing me from seeing black, to seeing your face
A thought of nothing, to a thought of you
And I remember, this paint job had been a race
That must explain why it looks this way
You left behind your empty cracks, not only on this ceiling
but also in a place my love will forever stay
Silly me, I've found a solution and I flip from my back
Staring at this pillow, I smile to myself
And silently drift away, hating that hideous black