MY MASTERPIECE
I used to think that I was bound
to dream big dreams about great things.
But life’s got a way to wear you down;
keep climbing hills and paying bills.
Somehow I let my dreams get small;
I’m that fly who sits on a cathedral wall.
So I’m gonna write my masterpiece.
Maybe someone else will see
but I gotta write it for me.
Gotta write it, write it, write it for me.
Sometimes you gotta face the facts:
your awful crime was killing time.
You’ll dread the day you dare to ask
if what you create will leave a trace.
They found drawings in a cave in France
where an ancient artist left it all to chance.
Even if nobody cares;
even if it disappears…
© ALLAN BULLINGTON (IncaBull Music – ASCAP)