What might be taken for a precocious genius is the genius of childhood. When the child grows up, it disappears without a trace. It may happen that this boy will become a real painter some day, or even a great painter. But then he will have to begin everything again, from zero.
Neither is there figurative and non-figurative art. All things appear to us in the shape of forms. Even in metaphysics ideas are expressed by forms, well then think how absurd it would be to think of painting without the imagery of forms. A figure, an object, a circle, are forms; they affect us more or less intensely.
When you don't have something that is what is everyone craves,
Then the trouble begins in waves. '
The clock loudly and soundly does tick
While you get tired sick.
You go do something that depends on others
Better do quick lest disagree your mothers.
Rhyme does you no then good,
Seems like that something is the only food.
The world beats around in their newly acquired fun
While you sit alone there, one and only one.
The clock loudly does tick
making you sick; really really sick
Tired of the fun, you go sit one,
While the music subsides and leaves you then,
With what you want.
The clock does tick,
Making you tired sick.
A lonely road is that i walked
I walk a lonely road, the one and only one I' ve ever known.
I don't know where it goes, but I keep walking on and on.
I walked the lonely and un trodden road for I was walking on the bridge
of the broken dreams.
I don't know what the world is fighting for or why iam being insticated.
It's for this that I walk this lonely road for I wish to be
So Iam breaking up, breakin' up.
It is the lack of self control that I feared as there is something
Inside me that pulls the need to surface, consuming, confusing.
being called Weird I walk this lonely road for on the verge of broken dreams.
And so i walk this lonely road and so just keep walking still