Little Jessie painted a picture on the basement wall
While her world was at war
When she looked down, her hands seemed so small
So did the world
When she looked through the window from afar
Little Jessie smeared the paint with her bare hands
While the people went out to earn their calluses and scars
The colours dipped and dripped and whipped-
Up what plagued her mind through day and night
The floor was cold and the air was still
And little Jessie had plenty of her heart to spill
When she moved to shake away the lead
The bombs dropped up over their heads
The city became quiet and empty
She would sit still and count to twenty
Then her little fingers would be stained red again
There were pictures to be splashed on walls
There were fears to be forgotten
Little jessie painted until she saw night fall