Drawing in a trance, his eyes don't leave the page,
Not a brush, he needs something more,
This is the outline of his life,
Within seconds he creates whole worlds,
Converting wisdom into colours,
All around people are asking why wait,
There are boats in the sea,
There are those who say that colours are a world of make-believe,
Uncool, somewhat less worthwhile,
You won't really discover new lands,
And there are others like me, who are still convinced,
That everything happens for a reason,
And there's no arguing with the soul,
He crumples it and tosses away the pencil, disturbed and unable to sleep,
They've been arguing for a while over what not to draw,
Go figure, go lose your temper at the sea,
There are those who say that colours are a world of make-believe