I want to paint a picture,
its meaning is unclear.
It makes me lay awake at night,
leaves me full of fear.
I want to paint a picture,
its canvas is getting old.
It's been decorated more than once,
with the secrets that it holds.
I want to paint a picture,
one with a story yet to end.
You see the story will continue on,
but I will still pretend
I want to paint a picture,
a picture with a twist.
My paintbrush is a razor,
the canvas is my wrist.
