At times I let the reels win,
I let the picture play.
I believe it’s a story,
A script played out by others.

At times I let the art win,
I let the paint brush away.
I believe it’s a story,
A canvas painted on by others.

At times I let the words win,
I let the pen ink dry.
I believe it’s a story,
A novel inked in by others.

At times I know the deeds win,
I let the demons stay
I see it’s my story,
A hell made for no others.