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Art In Me
Images on the sidewalk speak of dream's descent
Washed away by storms to graves of cynical lament
Dirty canvases to call my own
Protest limericks carved by the old pay phone
In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"
Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on
Tales of broken souls, an eternity's been won
As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man
My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again
In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"
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You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again
As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man
Tales of broken souls, an eternity's been won
Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Protest limericks carved by the old pay phone
Dirty canvases to call my own
Washed away by storms to graves of cynical lament
Images on the sidewalk speak of dream's descent
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