"Art In Me"

 "Art In Me"

Jars Of Clay

Images in a 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.

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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