There's a child in the painting
In the bushes, in the glen
There's a child in the painting
By the howling river bend.
There's a child lost and waiting
For a world where words prevail
For a whisper of a hero
Somewhere far beyond the veil.
If you listen you can hear him
You can hear the soft despair
If you listen you can hear him
Share his lonely little prayer...
Is the night sky really empty?
Are my only friends the grass?
Is this frame my frame forever?
Can a whisper break through glass?
There's a child in the painting
In the hallway of your home
There's a child in the painting
But his name is still unknown.
There's a way for you to reach him
If your heart can lead the way
To the place where words are woven
Through the walls that won't decay.
And if he listens he will hear you
He will hear it in the air
He will follow in the footsteps
Of your angelescent prayer...
No, the night sky isn't empty.
There are whispers unconfined
But the only way to hear them
Is to leave this world behind.
There's a child in the painting
Who can sense the drifts of time
There's a child in the painting
With a cunning sense of rhyme.
There's a child in the painting
With a face hard to define
But if I had to guess this instant
Then I'd guess his face were mine.
And I'd guess his name were my name
And his hands were my hands too
Then I'd sigh myself a silver sigh
And sing this song to you...
When the night sky's seeming empty
When forever lasts too long
Just remember someone's watching
Who's been with you all along.
Adding your comment:
) This is pretty good. I just wish I understand the climax, but maybe it's me. Yours - oce
