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“I love to paint; van Gogh I ain't”
From my mind to the canvas.
Something goes wrong I guess.
The brush strokes and my detail,
Always ends up such a mess.
It's like that when I’m singing too.
It sounds so good inside.
But note for note I miss the mark.
This cannot be denied.
To paint and sing, I love them both.
I do them for the pleasure.
The happiness that fills me up.
Is something not to measure.
So, I paint and sing in spare time.
When I sing I keep it low.
And what I put on canvas.
Well, I’m surely not van Gogh....
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