I Got High - Owen

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

In need of a new view

Of some new scenery to render

There’s a boat leaving

Where it goes

I don’t know

I’ve been buried alive

My history teacher by my side

Lest I forget those mistakes

That better men have made

The battles fought and lost

Small victories at what cost?

The curriculum is dated

My inspiration fading

A slow setting sun

There’s a boat leaving

Where it goes

Well, I don’t know

But if it floats

I’m getting on

With or without you

The winds are strong enough

Our native tongues will fail us

Oh, the pleasure I would take

In renaming everything

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?