Through His Eyes

Old man said it was a waste of breath To chase the

light and starve to death So I bought a dented lens for

fifty bucks And traded my sleep for a bit of luck Walking

the concrete, checking the frame No one around even knew my name

Developing dreams in a dark small room Waiting for something to break

the gloom They didn't look,

they didn't care

Just a kid capturing cold night air

But I see the world

through my own eyes

Every lonely street,

every grey sunrise

They can call it a waste,

they can call me blind But I'm leaving the doubts and the

fear behind (oh-oh-oh) My first gallery was an empty hall Just bare

white paint on a silent wall So I packed my bags for

the dusty roads Learned from the borders and the heavy loads Every

'no' was a place to start Putting the grit back into the

art

But I see the world

through my own eyes

Every lonely street, every grey sunrise They can call it a waste,

they can call me blind But I'm leaving the doubts and the

fear behind

Ten years of shadows,

ten years of rain

Finding the beauty inside of the pain Now the gallery lights are

shining bright On the kid who refused to

pack up in the night

And they see the world through my own eyes From the city

streets to the golden skies No more doubts and no looking back

Every single scar was a beaten track (yeah-eah)

I look down at this dented frame

It's still the very same

They called me crazy,

they called me wild

But I was just a hopeful child

Looking forward...