My life is a canvas all bumpy and plain.
Each time I do something, a strike will be made.
If, for instance, I do something cruel, or bad,
Come darkened, black colors to make me all sad.
But then, if I do something happy or nice,
Then comes the rainbow all lovely and bright.

My life is a canvas all bumpy and brown
Each time I step forward, I take a step down.
It's a wondr'ous burden, these colors of mine.
They oft' make me think of hurt and demise.
I try to withstand it the one way I can:
By topping more on-make others feel bad.

My life is a canvas and as you might see,
Doing more evil puts evil in me.
It roars and it bites more often than not
And my only comfort is a small bright spot.
I call him my comfort, my savior, my Lord.
He saved my dark canvas-he saved the whole world!

My life is a canvas and as you may see:
The evil tries to burn me up and take away the key.
The key-my Lord, my savior is always there for me.
Wheth'r dragons bring me down, or others drown me in the sea.
What will you do with your canvas and all your darkest blots?
I beg you to make room for the little bright spot.

There once was a bear,
Who sat all alone
On the toy store shelf.
He watched as his friends
Were gently taken
Off that wooden shelf.
They had soft brown fur
And handsome bow ties,
Just like he did.
But their golden coats
Must’ve been softer,
Their bow ties neater.
What made them special?
Why were they chosen,
And not this poor bear?
Days turned into weeks,
And weeks into months.
Still, he sat alone.
So now, he still sits,
Watching and waiting,
Wondr’ing why he’s there.
What good is a bear
With no one to hold,
No one to comfort?
What difference could he–
A lonely stuffed bear–
Make in this big word,
From all alone
On that toy store shelf?

once i took a job in a nearby town

and hid it in my basemnt

and now evry time the phone rings

i wondr