Eyedea Color My World Mine Lyrics

Color My World Mine Lyrics

I once met a man who trained himself not to dream



What he seems to have seen was a glimpse of everything



He's been painting pictures on canvas since age thirteen



And claims he only exists in the mind of a higher being



And I enjoy his work; mostly scenic landscapes



But each one is focused on an easel where the man paints himself painting
himself



And all that's in his visual field



He said this was the only way he could make himself real



Ever since he could remember, he had one nightmare reoccur



But until about ten years ago, it didn't matter



It consisted of loud, distorted sounds echoing off the concrete



He ran on top of it in attempt to reach a ladder



Now sometimes, he'd get so close but never touch his destination



Which caused him much frustration 'cause he didn't know what it meant



And by the end of the dream, he saw the scene from a bird's eye



Only to witness his dead body laying on the cement







It was only to witness his dead body laying on the cement



At first it freaked him out, but after a while he grew content



So he thought, "It's just a dream," and kept living his life



Writing his soul on the canvas 'cause it sheds his planet light



And it goes on and on like space and time, ain't nothing odd



It's not that he didn't believe, he just didn't approve of God



His experience was one I couldn't comprehend



'Till I stopped being detective and listened to him as a friend



He said







[Chorus]



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



It was then that he knew he was the art of divinity



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



A brush stroke of the gods made him one note in their symphony



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



He spoke for himself and not the rest of humanity



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



And I realize that I'm not real



God just imagined me







It's like I said



About ten years ago, the event that changed his whole reality



Took place on his monthly trip to the local art gallery



It was there where he studied his contemporaries



And there where he nearly carried his sanity to a hole and buried it forever



It was a very mysterious day



The place was almost empty



And he got chills down his spine just being present in the scene



On the wall, there was a picture that looked familiar



And when he got close, his heart stopped



cause he saw it was a painting of his dream



It was a painting of his dream



His body on a runway



By a ladder to an airplane with its propellers spinning



Which accounted for the loud noise



The match up was perfect



And that was the day he stopped believing in existing



He resented his creator



I mean, words can't explain



What must have went on in his brain while he stared into a frame



Of a work of art which he created and was at the same time



The mind can't handle that much, it's just insane



It's like reading a book where each words describe your thoughts



And in quotations, it reads whatever you say when you talk



You think it can't happen



But it did happen



I guess there's surprisingly wide cracks in each life's sidewalk



He stumbled upon an answer when he never had a question



And decided to stop dreaming to maintain his mental health



Now he hardly talks to people



Just stays in his basement



Writing infinity, by painting himself



Painting himself



This is a strange universe



Is it all just a blueprint?



In the real universe, is my consciousness useless?



Are we really something a higher intelligence made up?



A figment of imagination colored by a cosmic paintbrush?



Maybe all of our art creates the fate of other beings



Then every character in ever novel thinks it's alive and were just gods



Ruling blindly



Just a theory



I don't know what it means



But that's the story of the man who trained himself not to dream







[Chorus]



He once saw a paining that told his whole life story



He witnessed the paradox of the word "existing"



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



He colored his world theirs, and concluded he wasn't living



He once saw a painting that told his whole life story



The hidden variable that all that is is art



And when I close my eyes, I see eternity as a story



A God imagined the God that imagined me



And I am God



And so on