The Artist
Is this a present inside a question just for me? Am I the master of my own philosophy? Am I an artist full of potential new ideas? Or am I just a dreamer - or someone yet to become?
Some move around in circles they don’t know what they are looking for Have forgot their purpose they don’t know what they are longing for
Inside the jester is there a coexisting fear? And does he juggle to prevent it coming near? Is he ignorant of the ringing in his ears? Because it’s like a distance between him and the crowd
Some move around in circles...
You look so fragile taking steps upon that line Did someone tell you not to stop and fall behind? You make me wonder if that voice resides in me and kills my inner thunder and all my good ideas
Some move around in circles...
Inside the present there was nothing but a phrase for me to consider and for me to articulate And as I spoke it my whole world fell into place ‘cause in that fleeting moment my path revealed itself








