by tyler stenson © 2012 — ASCAP
With every song I write
I try to picture just what color it could be.
It’s the best way that I know
(To pair the words with the notes that I sing).
So, my love songs turn out red
And all my sad songs are a melancholy hue
But, since I’ve yet to write that perfect song,
I have yet to use a True Royal Blue.
Because it’s a color like no other;
It has been mixed just for the majesty of sky
And those perfect circled isles
That rest softly in the oceans of your eyes
And the bluebird on the wind,
Beautiful and elegant in what they do.
Oh, what shame to be caged—
That does no justice to a True Royal Blue.
So, when those shadows start to bite
And reduce us down to black and white,
Let the music chase away those dreadful grays
And let us pray some color stays.
I am a peasant here by birth
(No part of me was colored like a king)
And although I’m just a subject,
You are my Queen.
So, if I offered you some bread
And sang a song that I had written just for you,
Would you lie down beside me
And watch this simpleton progress from gray
Into a True Royal Blue?