Helium Fleas

Oh these silly ideas.
Insecurities are such a nasty thing.
You're just a fly on the wall... just a fly on the wall.
But my God you're the most alluring fly I've ever seen.

Oh these silly words.
Blah. Blah. Blah. And some other vices.
Concoctions of broken and improper sentences to attempt to prove a point.
Words don't mean you don't care.

Oh these silly dreams.
And what it takes to make them come true.
Some are poured on a silver spoon stuck in one's mouth.
Others are using those spoons to eat the yogurt they're living off of in order to make it possible.

What complex minds we as creatures hold.
Validation is a question of taste.
An aquired taste, if you will.
True queens don't need to make it known that they have a crown.
Helium fleas don't need to be high when they're coming down.
Explanations are owed to no one.
Yet everyone believes their story should be told.
Words communicate.
Words set free.
Words hold us back.
Words make it real.

But do they?
Is the Bible, the Torah, the Qur'an not just words?
So it's real isn't it?
Then why do you question?
This has no religious intent truly.
It was just said to make a point.
That words validate nothing.
Beliefs do.
Caring does.
If you don't care, why do you speak on it?

These ideas make about as much sense as those helium fleas.
And their ups and downs.
Blushing fevers turn to pale chalk.
And spin you in all kinds of circles.

Oh these silly ideas.