Sometimes I see birds flitting through the trees
And want to write.
But then I set down and start
After a paragraph or two, it all comes apart

And sometimes when a pretty girl walks by
I smell her perfume
And that makes me want to write

Sometimes I watch myself struggle
And that, well that makes me want to cry

And sometimes I think of the world
And all the hate and ugly in it
It makes me want to write
And cry

And then yesterday I woke up
And remembered that its important
To make beauty of the ugly
And the love from the hate

Today I woke up
Looked at myself in the mirror
And remembered the hate and the ugly
It made me want to write