Luyện nghe bài hát Color My World Mine

I met a man who trained himself not to dream
What he seems to have seen was a glimpse of
He's been painting on canvas since age thirteen
And claims he only in the mind of a higher being
And I his work; mostly scenic landscapes
But each one is focused on an easel where the man paints himself painting
And all that's in his field
He said this was the only way he could make real
Ever since he could remember, he had one reoccur
But until about ten ago, it didn't matter
It consisted of loud, distorted sounds off the concrete
He ran on top of it in attempt to reach a
Now sometimes, he'd get so close but touch his destination
Which caused him much 'cause he didn't know what it meant
And by the end of the dream, he saw the scene a bird's eye
Only to his dead body laying on the cement

It was only to witness his dead body on the cement
At it freaked him out, but after a while he grew content
So he thought, "It's just a dream," and living his life
his soul on the canvas 'cause it sheds his planet light
And it goes on and on space and time, ain't nothing odd
It's not he didn't believe, he just didn't approve of God
His experience was one I comprehend
'Till I stopped being detective and to him as a friend
He

He once saw a painting that told his whole life
It was then that he knew he was the art of
He once saw a painting that told his life story
A stroke of the gods made him one note in their symphony
He once saw a painting that told his whole story
He spoke for and not the rest of humanity
He once saw a painting told his whole life story
And I that I'm not real
God imagined me

like I said
About ten ago, the event that changed his whole reality
Took place on his monthly to the local art gallery
It was where he studied his contemporaries
And there where he carried his sanity to a hole and buried it forever
It was a mysterious day
The place was empty
And he got chills down his just being present in the scene
On the wall, there was a picture that looked
And when he got close, his stopped
cause he saw it was a painting of his
It was a painting of his
His body on a
By a ladder to an airplane with its propellers
Which for the loud noise
The match up was
And was the day he stopped believing in existing
He resented his
I mean, words can't
What must went on in his brain while he stared into a frame
Of a work of art he created and was at the same time
The mind can't that much, it's just insane
It's like reading a book each words describe your thoughts
And in quotations, it whatever you say when you talk
You think it happen
But it did
I guess surprisingly wide cracks in each life's sidewalk
He stumbled upon an answer he never had a question
And decided to stop dreaming to maintain his mental
Now he hardly to people
Just in his basement
Writing infinity, by himself
himself
This is a universe
Is it all a blueprint?
In the real universe, is my useless?
Are we really something a higher intelligence up?
A figment of imagination colored by a cosmic
Maybe all of our art the fate of other beings
Then every in ever novel thinks it's alive and were just gods
blindly
Just a
I know what it means
But the story of the man who trained himself not to dream

He once saw a paining that his whole life story
He witnessed the paradox of the "existing"
He once saw a painting that told his whole life
He colored his world theirs, and concluded he living
He once saw a painting that told his whole story
The hidden variable all that is is art
And when I close my eyes, I see eternity as a
A God the God that imagined me
And I am God
And so on