I wish I had a talent for drawing men.
To paint a picture with my brushes,
Sketch his jaw strong and straight.
I would make him with shaggy black hair to cover his eyes.
He'd carry a dagger and a young woman's heart.
And behind those eyes of his there'd be a story beyond compare.

I wish I had a talent for drawing girls.
I'd make her graceful and beautiful,
Just one stroke of the hand and her eyes alight.
She'd have flowing gold hair,
Wings to fly her high,
And love in her eyes.

I wish I had a talent for drawing flowers.
I'd draw a bouquet from him to her.

I wish I had a talent for drawing horses.
She'd ride upon the majestic stead,
Far and wide she'd search for him,
Just to sneak a peek at the smile he wore.

I wish I had a talent for drawing.
I could paint a picture worth a thousand words.
But then I remember where my talent lies,
Between the black and white lines.

I could make the man wield the dagger,
Either to save or hurt her.
I could make the girl fly high into the sky,
Or low to the depth of hell.
I could make the flowers give her joy,
Or end her life with the polluted smell.
I could make the horse run all the way,
Or collapse and never reach its goal.

I have a talent, the most dangerous of all.
Whatever I write,
Whatever I wish,
Is in my command.