They say "Being creative makes you strange.
You should live in real time, not a story on the stage."
Paints and pens will not give you life,
and neither will that camera you bought yesterday.
Don't put headphones in and tune out reality,
and you certainly cannot make the arts your home

They call the places we reside our homes.
That may have been true on some distant yesterday,
but now it's all an elaborate effect of the stage,
A broken, twisted, disproportionate reality.
The faces shouting at you are unknown and strange,
people that once held purpose in your life.

They don't accept the way you live your life.
No one is willing to give you a home.
Nothing is concrete, and memories bubble up from yesterday,
of when you were normal, not something strange,
when you weren't chastised for loving the stage,
and your life was a perfect reality.

But you know what's gone? Your ideal reality.
Appreciation for the arts is a thing of yesterday.
Seen as outcast, as strange,
and never encouraged in the home.
You are not free to express yourself as you walk through life.
You hang on to a bleak and desecrated stage.

They say you'll never make a living on the brightly-lit stage,
and their children must grow up and learn to face reality.
Artistic dreams will not pay for our homes.
Pursuing them will never get us anywhere in life.
Don't draw inspiration from things that happened yesterday.
These things just make you awkward and strange.

But being creative is in no way strange.
We can make a living, and find our own paths in life.
And if you don't want it, then art has no place in your home.
You need to learn to grow up and face reality.
Don't tell me you wouldn't love to be on that stage,
recalling the memories of yesterday.