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I Got High
Owen
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I got high with an art teacher of mine
I learned how to paint portraits and landscapes with perspective
But i've been sitting here
The better part of eighteen years
Blank stare blank canvas
I'm in need of a new view
Of some new scenery to render
There's a boat leaving
Where it goes, I don't know
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I've been buried alive
A history teacher by my side
Lest I forget those mistakes that better men have made
Battles fought and lost
Small victories at what cost?
But the curriculum is dated, my inspiration fading
A slow setting sun
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There's a boat leaving
Where it goes, I don't know
But if it floats Im getting on
With or without you
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The winds are strong enough
Or native tongues will fail us
Oh the pleasure i would take
In renaming everything
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There are boats leaving
Where they go, I don't know
But it's a chance to see something new
Will you come with me?
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