The Colour Scheme

Steve Skaith / Mike Jones

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You say you know me from the room that I have made
But what is housing anyway?
Only resting and a place to stay
The architects familiar theme
I didn’t choose the colour scheme

You say you’ll guide me in the route I plan to take
But what is travel anyway?
Just missed connections and long delays
From Capricorn to cold extreme
And someone else’s colour scheme

Nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
In a midnight dark as a spreading bruise
Nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
Between the angry reds and the dust-bowl blues

You say you’ll show me all the thoughts I called my own
But what is thinking anyway?
Just furrowed brows and missing days
A broken sleep and coffee steam
The morning caffeine colour scheme

I’ve got nothing to loose
I’ve got nothing to loose
In a midnight black as a burnt out fuse
Nothing to choose
I’ve got nothing to loose
Between the angry reds and the dust-bowl blues

You say you have the formula for the risks I have to take
But who would gamble anyway?
On sure things that always fall away
The endless fences tear the dream
The fallen jockey’s colour scheme

You say you know me from the room that I have made
But what is housing anyway?