IF ONLY I COULD SEE YOU
IF ONLY YOU COULD HEAR ME
THEN, ONLY THEN
COULD I FINALLY TELL YOU
HOW BEAUTIFUL IT IS

THAT WONDERFUL MELODY

HOW CRUEL
BORN BLIND AND MUTE AT REFLECTION
MY MIND A CANVAS FOR NO ONE TO SEE
SO WHAT IS THE USE
OF PAINTING IT?

SO I STAND ROOTED
FOREVER
LISTENING, LISTENING, LISTENING
A PALETTE OF BEAUTIFUL COLOR
UPON THE PAINTER'S LAP

BUT THE CANVAS REMAINS EMPTY

FOR I THINK NO LONGER