Gray walls and gray beds
Sun could smile
But it’s dead

Wind could talk
But it’s to quiet

Heart could feel
Yet it just beats instead

Mind and memories
Drowning out the things around
Eyes they close, to not feel so bound

The brush I raise
Out of these cold hands of mine
Paint as you please Lindsey
Paint the things you like

Why don’t you paint the sun a golden yellow shining on you
And paint the sky a nice shade of blue

With a line of orange, purple and pink
Along to the bottom of the dark, glassy sea
Paint what you see

I open my eyes to find a room full of color
The wind from my window and the sun from the sky
find one another

A hand on my heart
Something I once tried to hide
A brand new start
I found hope inside