The Painter

Poor is the pupil, who does not surpass his master
Colour is the day, long obsession

Well tonight I paint
I express and create
I stumble and I procrastinate
My destiny awaits cannot be late
Like a funeral at the gate and so we anticipate

Poor is the pupil, who does not surpass his master
Colour is the day, long obsession

So I paint, I shall not faint I boast of my deliberate fate
The nothingness is real it has found me here
I embrace the empty hollow of my soul
I might be singing, if I had music ringing but the cowards are beaten like dogs
Saints of creation bids you motivation is God still there for me

If the music doesn't play, nothing is okay
Just remember words that I say
Where I lay my head is where I pray
If I dig a grave, that is where I give praise

Poor is the pupil, who does not surpass his master
Colour is the day, long obsession

Joy & torment
Joy & torment
Joy & torment