He’s carving a masterpiece, in his flesh are hidden secrets told.
Crimson streaks stain the canvas as the story unfolds.
Deeper and deeper the artist is etching in his very pain
While the paint is washed away by a cloudless rain.
He pours his heart into everything this brilliant piece will be
‘Cause maybe then someone will see.
He carefully writes a few words in a small heart.
It’s sad when you realize how many pieces lay on the ground torn apart.
He cuts away small bits until the truth started to sink in
“I don’t care anymore that I didn’t get to win.”
She doesn’t matter as much as she did, but she still left a memorable scar.
Not on his flesh where I thought it would be, but simply carved in his guitar