Faded Polaroid Soul

Normal people talking about normal things Other people, over cheap wine and fresh cigarettes What can they do? What do they do? No, seriously! What do they do or say all day Do they all just do laundry and stare at each other while listening to almost good music Reading articles for bored people written by bored people How can you live, how can you grow When you cut off and threw off All your gemstones - your most colourful clothes And now, you practice, you excersise Which is good But that's not how a soul should be fed It gets fed up quite easily with going to bed By 10 pm each night Sure it can fade and later be framed and find fame What is it? this futile fertilizer? Can it be a song in summer Played on a piano by fingers Shaking from too much coffee Or can it be a scarf that you put on That reminds you of a colourful time When sky was magenta and words were rhymes Now you play video games till dawn So maybe just do it, burn it all Cut the silicone ribbon and set yourself free Of all the hurt and its agents, let them leave Let your self stay, though At the end, it's just you and your faded polaroid soul