Scribble, scribble.
Brush, brush.
Art is all around me.

From the decorative stair rails
To the fancy windows.
Art is all around me.

Self portraits of me,
And flowers galore
Cover the house on each floor.

China dolls
And fragile figures
  Cover the walls on shelves.

Pictures of me,
And my good old brother
Cloud the refrigerator door.

Art is all around me.  

What do they mean,
All the picture and frames
That seem to make the house look nice.

For it's not what you see.
But is what your feel.
That makes art matter.

The feeling that comes with what you see
Is the true meaning of art.