The artist sits at his blank canvas
Collecting thoughts with the passing time
In a white flash inspiration it strikes
The brush starts to glide, the colors they fly
He works for hours on his masterpiece
Never knowing what of it will be
Now that it's done, he takes in the scene
The depth and beauty, and the meanings
But then a sad thought crossed his mind
People may never know the works he'd left behind
All his emotions started to grow dim
He knew he couldn't take it with him
All these works may not even be seen
They might get buried within history!
The seasons pass, and the rain must fall
The cycles of time move on and on
Musician in the 21st century
Trying to build a small community
The hours he spends to no fruitful end
The work only gives monotony!
Decades of work keep pilling up
Many times he's thought of giving up
At least once he's gone the people will come
His works will be known by everyone
But then a sad thought crossed his mind
People may never know the works he'd left behind
I don't know who or what I'll even be
I know I cannot take you with me
All my work may never come to see
The light of day it's such a tragedy
The seasons pass, and the rain must fall
The cycles of time move on and on