✧✦═══⊰ - ⊱═══ ✦✧✦ ✧✦ ═══⊰ - ⊱═══✦✧✦ ✧✦ ═══⊰ - ⊱═══✦✧ 🎶 We've built a German-speaking community for Suno artists! 🎶 We're the *StorytellerZ* – and you can find us on Discord: 👉 https://discord.gg/storytellerz ✧✦═══⊰ - ⊱═══ ✦✧✦ ✧✦ ═══⊰ - ⊱═══✦✧✦ ✧✦ ═══⊰ - ⊱═══✦✧ © 2025 by XxSp1derxX. Unauthorized use or duplication of these lyrics and music is prohibited. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A little reminder that YOU are the artist who fills your own life with the colours that make you happy! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yeah… you’ve been walking through a world That kept rearranging your trust. People you called “home” Turned into storms you never saw coming. And every promise they broke Took a little bit of color out of your sky. But you stayed standing Even when your heart felt like borrowed light. I’ve watched you doubt yourself Because others failed you… not because you failed them. And that matters. It matters more than you think. See… scars don’t talk truth. They only talk history. And history ain’t destiny Not for you. ’Cause the colors are yours, You hold the brush, you choose the shade. No one else gets to write How your storyline’s portrayed. You’re the main one here, Not a side note on your own page. So when those doubts start whispering, Say: “The choice is mine— I set the stage.” I know trust feels like a mountain, And every step reminds you Of the people who pushed instead of lifted. I get it. You wonder if you can still open doors That once slammed shut on your spirit. But brother, listen— I’ve seen you walk through storms With your chest open to the wind, As if some part of you still believed There’s something worth fighting for inside. And that’s strength. Not weakness. Never was. The world might’ve shaped you, But it never learned your blueprint. They left stains… You write chapters. ’Cause the colors are yours, You hold the brush, you choose the shade. No one else gets to write How your storyline’s portrayed. You’re the main one here, Not a side note on your own page. So when those doubts start whispering, Say: “The choice is mine— I set the stage.” And if they ever ask Why you still believe in brighter days, Tell them: “My scars don’t mean I broke— They mean I kept walking.” You’re not damaged. You’re real. And real is rare. Yeah, the colors are yours, Every shade you paint is brave. Red for courage, blue for peace, yellow for every brand new day. You’re the main one here— Your story bends the moment you say: “I choose the life I live— And I choose it my way.” „I already wrote it to you on WhatsApp.“ “Your picture isn’t broken. It’s just been painted by the wrong hands. Take the colors back. They were always yours.”
