Spirit is like a finger in the paint of life
I'm writing something at your door
You have to come out to read what was written
At your door stands a person who looks like you
No sign - no letter - no message
Movement is a color and time a shape

To focus on - it needs time
To leave the own creation
Is a way to feel about sentences
Placed in your heart
Accepted as a law
To break your will - to give a choice
Which paint to use - which paint you use

To color the world
From outside the house
Of black and white nightmares
Planted long ago by the ones
Without a home in their hearts
They never read the message
Written on their doors
They never crossed the threshold
So the world outside is yours !

I'm writing something at your door
You have to come out - to read what was written
At your door stands a person who looks like you
To focus on - it needs time
To leave the own creation
Planted long ago - by the ones
Without a home in their hearts
And they never read the message
Written on their doors
They never crossed the threshold
So the world outside is yours !