The Beautiful Insanity

There's a thing called the beautiful insanity,
It's a test on your breath of humanity.
You hold it in too long and see if you turn blue
Because it's something you've always wanted to do.

You're not mad and you're not falling apart,
You're not trying to nurse a broken heart.
You're just a girl trying to catch the leaves,
You don't know why, so they're kept in your sleeves.

There's a thing called the beautiful insanity,
It reaches out and brushes your humanity
In purples, violets and blues all looking like gold.
Something white, something new, something black something old.

Just look around in an ambient way,
Tuck it in a drawer and name it 'Today'.
If you don't have a drawer your head will do.
Shine it sometimes, so it's forever new.

There's a thing called the beautiful insanity,
Don't get me wrong when I say it's humanity.
It's not a bad thing and you have not lost the game,
Because it's normal to be beautifully insane.