You think that I'm unhappy,
say I must be so depressed,
'cause there's tears on half these pages,
and blood smeared on the rest.
Truth is that I'm content,
I know I'll be just fine.
I'm actually quite happy,
it's hard to describe.
When tears are falling quick,
when I don't feel alright,
when I'm feeling sick,
that's when I write.
When my mind is not at ease,
that's when words flow.
When emotions sting like bees,
this is where I go.
Back to the ink and words,
that dance across the pages,
back to what I've known,
through way too many ages.
When you look through old pictures,
every time looks so glad.
It's because nobody keeps pictures,
of the times that were bad.
It's almost the same concept,
only not the same,
you take pictures of happy,
I keep the words of pain.
I've had many happy times,
I'm really not depressed,
but when I'm feeling low,
that's when I write best.
Don't feel sorry for me honey,
I'll never write a happy song,
but I never would have written a word,
if nothing was ever wrong.
They say every curse is a blessing,
every blessing is a curse.
This is one and both,
my lyrics, verse by verse.