What is the color of your imagination? What is the substance of your jilted soul? Don't say! I don't want to know Don't tell! I don't want you to grow on me I've told you once that some things are just better Better left unsaid Better Better left unsaid What is the purpose of your isolation? What are you thinking when there's no one there? Don't say! I don't want to know Don't tell! I don't want you to grow on me I've told you once that some things are just better Better left unsaid Better Better left unsaid If you were tangible down to the core, I would never consider you pretty Cause your vernal features would look predetermined, I hear the palaver of pity Tell me who are you to justify your aging arrogance I wasn't like this all my life, you know, I showed interest in other people I was born with a curious mind just like yours, Now I'm tired, I want to sleep Cause I miss the soothing tranquilizing bliss of ignorance So what is the color of your imagination? Jilted soul.