Charles holds his picture up to show
"Excuse me did I do this wrong?"
Tugging at my pantleg
I tell him there's no wrong in art
He frowns and squints in disbelief
Answer: Unsatisfactory

Always asking me for the right and wrong
Charles wants to know how to sing the songs
How to sing along
Can I make him love his own melodies?

Children scattered 'round the classroom floor
Like blank pages on tablecloths I tried to sing them all to sleep
Charles at my chair, he can't lay down
Too excited to be alive
And he wants some answers out of me

A blank sheet of paper and the crayons clutched tightly in our hands
This is what we dream
This is what we dream
Wipe the slate clean
Now let's begin

Used to thing I could save the world
With a sign and my fist up in the air
Now the blank page is in front of me
And the task has me so f___in' scared
Scrubbing the paint from my fingers
Stains bled from a child's psyche
Mixes like blood into water
Secretly, as if someone's watching

Regurgitate like a machine?
I strive for more than leading sheep
Scribbling wildly on their futures
How did I become the teacher?
I'm struggling hard not to return
To teachings I've tried to unlearn

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