These collection of books are in a blanket of dust
Stacked in the view of who you desire acceptance from


Portraying the idea of the most intellectual man
Yet all I see is the child in daddy's shoes
Puffed out chest and a brand new suit

This lie has become your greatest flaw

For these men, you desire to be

Are all the same, dressed up with no meaning
True colours are, black and White
Lacking the ability, to break free


Oh watchmaker can you tell the time for me?
I am lost in the moment again

Another day has gone by and I cannot recollect
I'm slowly becoming forgetful
So I ask of you

Oh watchmaker can you tell the time for me?

We build these names on amounts of which no one owns

A figure to evaluate and follow with measured intentions
These structures have become, shackles built, in disguise
Unique talent is worth more, than these numbered values


Squandered in the system to repeat a pattern
Bright eyes of no bounds now under grey clouds

These paths made out of, what was foretold as best
We let drift the only way to bring change and hope


I am no messenger, nor am I any different
For I may see these cracks but I can not make the seal
My heart has hope

As my eyes watch these clouds
The tale of my red turning to grey