Eyedea, Abilities - Color My World Mine lyrics
[Eyedea, Abilities - Color My World Mine lyrics]
I once met a man who
Trained himself not to dream
What he seems to have seen
Was a glimpse of everything
He's been painting pictures on
Canvas since age thirteen
And claims he only exists in the
Mind of a higher being
And I enjoy his work mostly scenic landscapes
But each one is focused on an easel
Where the man paints himself painting himself
And all that's in his visual field
He said this was the only way
He could make himself real
Ever since he could remember
He had one nightmare reoccur
But until about ten years ago
It didn't matter it consisted of loud
Distorted sounds echoing off the concrete
He ran on top of it in
Attempt to reach a ladder now sometimes
He'd get so close but
Never touch his destination
Which caused him much frustration cause he
Didn't know what it meant
And by the end of the dream
He saw the scene from a bird's eye
Only to witness his dead body
Laying on the cement
It was only to witness his dead
Body laying on the cement
At first it freaked him out
But after a while he grew content
So he thought, "It's just a dream
" and kept living his life
Writing his soul on the canvas cause
It sheds his planet light
And it goes on and on like space and time
Ain't nothing odd
It's not that he didn't believe
He just didn't approve of God
His experience was one I couldn't comprehend
'Till I stopped being detective and listened
To him as a friend he said
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
It was then that he knew he
Was the art of divinity
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
A brush stroke of the gods made
Him one note in their symphony
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
He spoke for himself and not
The rest of humanity
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
And I realize that I'm not real
God just imagined me
It's like I said about ten years ago
The event that changed his whole reality
Took place on his monthly trip
To the local art gallery
It was there where he
Studied his contemporaries
And there where he nearly carried his sanity
To a hole and buried it forever
It was a very mysterious day
The place was almost empty
And he got chills down his spine
Just being present in the scene on the wall
There was a picture that looked familiar
And when he got close, his heart stopped
Cause he saw it was a painting of his dream
It was a painting of his dream
His body on a runway
By a ladder to an airplane
With it's propellers spinning
Which accounted for the loud noise
The match up was perfect
And that was the day he
Stopped believing in existing
He resented his creator
I mean, words can't explain
What must have went on in his brain
While he stared into a frame
Of a work of art which he created
And was at the same time
The mind can't handle that much
It's just insane
It's like reading a book where
Each words describe your thoughts
And in quotations
It reads whatever you say when you talk
You think it can't happen but it did happen
I guess there's surprisingly wide cracks
In each life's sidewalk
He stumbled upon an answer when
He never had a question
And decided to stop dreaming to
Maintain his mental health
Now he hardly talks to people
Just stays in his basement
Writing infinity, by painting himself
Painting himself this is a strange universe
Is it all just a blueprint?
In the real universe
Is my consciousness useless?
Are we really something a
Higher intelligence made up?
A figment of imagination colored
By a cosmic paintbrush?
Maybe all of our art creates
The fate of other beings
Then every character in every novel thinks
It's alive and were just gods ruling blindly
Just a theory i don't know what it means
But that's the story of the man
Who trained himself not to dream
He once saw a paining that
Told his whole life story
He witnessed the paradox of
The word "existing"
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
He colored his world theirs
And concluded he wasn't living
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
The hidden variable that all that is is art
And when I close my eyes
I see eternity as a story
A God imagined the God that imagined me
And I am God and so on
Trained himself not to dream
What he seems to have seen
Was a glimpse of everything
He's been painting pictures on
Canvas since age thirteen
And claims he only exists in the
Mind of a higher being
And I enjoy his work mostly scenic landscapes
But each one is focused on an easel
Where the man paints himself painting himself
And all that's in his visual field
He said this was the only way
He could make himself real
Ever since he could remember
He had one nightmare reoccur
But until about ten years ago
It didn't matter it consisted of loud
Distorted sounds echoing off the concrete
He ran on top of it in
Attempt to reach a ladder now sometimes
He'd get so close but
Never touch his destination
Which caused him much frustration cause he
Didn't know what it meant
And by the end of the dream
He saw the scene from a bird's eye
Only to witness his dead body
Laying on the cement
It was only to witness his dead
Body laying on the cement
At first it freaked him out
But after a while he grew content
So he thought, "It's just a dream
" and kept living his life
Writing his soul on the canvas cause
It sheds his planet light
And it goes on and on like space and time
Ain't nothing odd
It's not that he didn't believe
He just didn't approve of God
His experience was one I couldn't comprehend
'Till I stopped being detective and listened
To him as a friend he said
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
It was then that he knew he
Was the art of divinity
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
A brush stroke of the gods made
Him one note in their symphony
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
He spoke for himself and not
The rest of humanity
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
And I realize that I'm not real
God just imagined me
It's like I said about ten years ago
The event that changed his whole reality
Took place on his monthly trip
To the local art gallery
It was there where he
Studied his contemporaries
And there where he nearly carried his sanity
To a hole and buried it forever
It was a very mysterious day
The place was almost empty
And he got chills down his spine
Just being present in the scene on the wall
There was a picture that looked familiar
And when he got close, his heart stopped
Cause he saw it was a painting of his dream
It was a painting of his dream
His body on a runway
By a ladder to an airplane
With it's propellers spinning
Which accounted for the loud noise
The match up was perfect
And that was the day he
Stopped believing in existing
He resented his creator
I mean, words can't explain
What must have went on in his brain
While he stared into a frame
Of a work of art which he created
And was at the same time
The mind can't handle that much
It's just insane
It's like reading a book where
Each words describe your thoughts
And in quotations
It reads whatever you say when you talk
You think it can't happen but it did happen
I guess there's surprisingly wide cracks
In each life's sidewalk
He stumbled upon an answer when
He never had a question
And decided to stop dreaming to
Maintain his mental health
Now he hardly talks to people
Just stays in his basement
Writing infinity, by painting himself
Painting himself this is a strange universe
Is it all just a blueprint?
In the real universe
Is my consciousness useless?
Are we really something a
Higher intelligence made up?
A figment of imagination colored
By a cosmic paintbrush?
Maybe all of our art creates
The fate of other beings
Then every character in every novel thinks
It's alive and were just gods ruling blindly
Just a theory i don't know what it means
But that's the story of the man
Who trained himself not to dream
He once saw a paining that
Told his whole life story
He witnessed the paradox of
The word "existing"
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
He colored his world theirs
And concluded he wasn't living
He once saw a painting that
Told his whole life story
The hidden variable that all that is is art
And when I close my eyes
I see eternity as a story
A God imagined the God that imagined me
And I am God and so on