You're a painting with symbols deep
Symphony soft as it shifts from dark beneath
A poem that flows, caressing my skin
In all of these things you reside
And I want you to flow from the pen, bow and brush
With paper and string, and canvas tight
With ink in the air, to dust your light?
From morning to the black of night

This is my call
I belong to you
This is my call
To sing the melodies of you
This is my call
I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else

You're the scent of an unfound bloom
A simple tune
I only write variations to sooth the mood
A drink that will knock me down to the floor
A key that will unlock the door
Where I hear a voice sing familiar themes
Then beckons me weaves notes in between
A tap and a string, a bow and a glass
You pour me 'till the day has passed