The lack of money causes depression
Though I'll mask it with suppression
I'll try to say this with discretion
But I'm not one for first impressions
I'll Van Gogh till I'm Van Gone
Make it seem like nothing's wrong
Painting sunflowers on and on
So many pictures I haven't drawn
The yellow paint cascades down
On past my lips' eternal frown
My body should be on the ground
A depressed painter lying around
It colors my blood a "happy" color
Though it feels like something other
Happiness will never smother
My lungs and stomach will be covered
Drink yellow paint and then you'll see
The colors spinning in front of me
Sunflowers spill internally
The painting inside will never cease
A depressed painter takes his life
Using his art to end his strife
It's like a yellow colored knife
The happy color isn't right
Happy yellow mixed with red
From the blood now mixed with lead
I think I'm starting to lose my head
My art will be worth more when I'm dead
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