I still do, even though I know I can't sing,
Because I'm happier when I strum the strings.

I still do, even though I know I can't dance,
But only when I'm alone will I ever prance.

I still do, even though I know I can't draw,
And when I finish, I am filled with anything but awe.

I still do, even though I know I can't write,
There seems to be nothing I can ever do right.