Grey.

The sky is grey, the sand is grey, and the ocean is grey. I feel right at home in this stunning monochrome, alone in my way. I smoke and I drink and every time I blink I have a tiny dream. But as bad as I am I'm proud of the fact that I'm worse than I seem. What kind of paradise am I looking for? I've got everything I want and still I want more. Maybe some tiny shiny thing will
wash up on the shore. You walk through my walls like a ghost on tv. You penetrate me and my little pink heart is on its little brown raft floating out to sea. And what can I say but I'm wired this way and you're wired to me, and what can I do but wallow in you unintentionally? What kind of paradise am I looking for? I've got everything I want and still I want more. Maybe some tiny shiny key will wash up on the shore. Regretfully, I guess I've got three simple things to say: Why me? Why this now? Why this way? Overtone's ringing, undertow's pulling away under a sky that is grey and sand that is grey by an ocean that's grey. What kind of paradise am I looking for? I've got everything I want and still I want more. Maybe some tiny shiny key will wash up on the shore.