"The Brush Reflects Me"

[Intro] [Break] [Fragment 1] Hours pass like heavy brush strokes, dripping and dissolving slowly in water. The deep blue shifts, blurs, and fades. [Break] [Fragment 2] I stab the canvas with strokes of blazing red. The paint obeys gravity: a landscape of forced art, violently subjective. [Bridge] The colors try to sing a song, and the song aches to paint a scene. [Instrumental] [Fragment 3] I shade the edges of doubt. I blur the distant conifers. Stroke by stroke, I step into the sound of the landscape. [Outro] Every aimless smudge has a purpose. Every drip on the floor knows a secret of mine. Every color sails through my subconscious. The brush and the canvas reflect me, but my hands are out of sight. [The end]