I tried to paint you pictures

...you insisted you didn't know what art was,

I stood there, you were bathed in Maroon, but it was not your color,
As you went on about Five
and Fingers and Rolling
R's and I
Was angry
And my throat throttled
This is when I know
I have days where I feel like a weakling

Is it my fault I cannot teach you how to type,
Or your fault you are not learning
To walk outside of the boundary lines?