My life is a canvas all bumpy and plain. Each time I do something, a strike will be made. If, for instance, I do something cruel, or bad, Come darkened, black colors to make me all sad. But then, if I do something happy or nice, Then comes the rainbow all lovely and bright.
My life is a canvas all bumpy and brown Each time I step forward, I take a step down. It's a wondr'ous burden, these colors of mine. They oft' make me think of hurt and demise. I try to withstand it the one way I can: By topping more on-make others feel bad.
My life is a canvas and as you might see, Doing more evil puts evil in me. It roars and it bites more often than not And my only comfort is a small bright spot. I call him my comfort, my savior, my Lord. He saved my dark canvas-he saved the whole world!
My life is a canvas and as you may see: The evil tries to burn me up and take away the key. The key-my Lord, my savior is always there for me. Wheth'r dragons bring me down, or others drown me in the sea. What will you do with your canvas and all your darkest blots? I beg you to make room for the little bright spot.