The austere heavens of normality
bleed away to the grayish films of storm
and one to look would say, "my, my, my
what deathly gray does fill this day"
though these are but the blackish white
blended firmaments of normaly abnormal,
of the give in your perfect equation
And then one day the grayish films of storm
part if only for a moment to reveal a hidden hue...
an unknown variable in your perfect disorder
and you look perplexèd to the shielded stars,
"wh... what is this strangeness that exists in my day?
Could it be, would it be, a different shade of gray?"
Ahhh, laughter, madness and mania! My
compadres! Here we grow strong with each passing day!
The floors of my world part if only
for a moment to reveal a hidden view,
and frightened, wondering eyes stare back
at my own...
And my eyes, they say, are a different shade of gray.