When My Life

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The April Family

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When my life was a Painting, strip the oil from the canvas, 
Use new colours and clean brushes
Every day another scene 
I wouldn't call myself an artist, I'm just trying to paint a picture, 
You wouldn't call it no masterpiece, imperfect incomplete
 
When my life was a Garden, in the spring I would sew, 
The seed that in the winter time, I planted there to grow, 
Sometimes there'll be weeds to pull and sometimes there'll be flowers, 
All summer s turn to autumn
And the fields will lay fallow

Maybe time, is not a straight line after all, 
Maybe time, is somewhere we've all been before
What if time, doesn't have a start and end, 
It might not be a friend, or a foe 

When my life was a story, lets start at the beginning, 
Try to guess the ending, every page another year
At times a work of fiction, at time you never know, 
How the characters will grow and the writings never clear

Maybe time, is not a straight line after all, 
Maybe time, is somewhere we've all been before
What if time, doesn't have a start and end, 
It might not be a friend, or a foe 


When my life was a home, I built it on my own, 
My family my foundation, strong as steel and stone
There's crack in this old wall, and the paint has started peeling, 
In every room It has a feeling, ill never be alone.

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