They say artist have a unique way
Of looking at this place we call our world
We miss that there is more they don't display
Unlucky their vision has been disturbed

You see, we think we live in harmony
Blindly going on with our restless lives
Ripping off their band-aide now nakedly
To only be looked at as a lowlife

Facing the truth in a perspective matter
By various colors and feelings
Watch as they pick a beautiful flower
Painting black to give it a new meaning

But even though they bring much delight
They are curse with the artist eyesight