Red eyes, piercing gaze,
brush in hand,
brush in hand, a splash of paint.
Into the paint, the brush dips.
Three strokes, one more,
while the paint drips,
while the paint drips, trickling to the floor
With no sunshine one so bright,
you stand alone under the moonlit night,
Stars as your companions,
you aim to portray wonder,
you aim to portray wonder, and horror alike.
Time goes on, runs away,
flows down, like a trickle of paint.
You're there for hours, year, a day,
hoping for nothing,
hoping for nothing, but a stream of light,
but still it seems in vain,
but still it seems in vain, for there's still no sun in sight