The beauty of song shall never be forgone in all the days head. I would bow my heads to artists now, for that thought I sorely dread. For every song has a meaning, ever artists mind is busy scheming. Their words are that of thought, on which in our lives we sought. We seek meaning in places beyond, at time when all else is gone.
For that beauty is always there, no matter how long you stare. It will slip on from the past, to paint the future just as fast. For man is built with this goal, to set the world a light against the foe. For the decay of the mind is the foe, with him he'd we'd lose the world to his dimly work soul.
To build it up to shine in the sky, for songs of love to be hailed and never told goodbye. This is the goal of the artist true, to make the world prettier for me and for you.