Just as much as the sky is painted,
I will keep this white paper tinted.
As much as the number of stone in a gravel road,
This ink will write about you 'til we're old.
If you can count the sand,
The letters will flow equally from my hand.
Maybe if you tell me your distance from a star,
The words I lined will be that far.
Can you count all of the trees?
Their papers won't be enough for my ABC's.
Can you collect all the webs the spiders leave?
Oh! You are the silk my hands will forever weave.
Did you know how long the earth has existed?
That's how long the ink of my soul has bled.
And if ever you can contain all the rainfall,
Tell me because you are the reason for it all.
