The Artist
Going to college to become an educated gentlemen, But what is an educated gentlemen? A man who knows a lot about a little. A man who has everything and nothing, Sitting in clouds drifting over Wall Street.
[Brian] While a violinist below clad in clad in ragged, patched-up dreams Rosins up his life and plays symphonies for strangers, Trying to reach into their souls and pull out shreds of stories, Never looking down at the lone dollar fluttering around In his open case, left there by a man who said, " Yes, I seen myself in your strings While you take everything that makes me want to scream an make it sing!" The violinist gives him a curt nod even as his fingers cramp From icy and damp winds carrying his passion and truth Into the shadows of Harlem. Way up inside a glass castle looming over the stratosphere, Shells in suits convene in heated rooms to discuss Profits and strategies and allowances, because The dollar is always greener in yachts and Malibu beach houses.
[Devonn] Through a back alley gutter sitting on a cardboard box The ears of a child tinted pink hearing the melody Of one who can truly speak his soul, Watching everyday the sights of a grimy and shit-stained future, A man who could be his long-lost father stands on the corner Selling bags of temporary happiness to a woman Who looks like bones and reeks like death, Clinging to the knees of this street-corner messiah. The little one watches with his best friend in his arms, A decrepit Nikon camera, Together they traverse dark roads leading to a truth That everyone sees and choose to lie away, And with each click of his camera he captures Shattered past, empty presents, and bleak future. He is an artist, Speaking for the voiceless, Lifting up the beaten, and shedding light onto those who lost their way. His only salary is his spirit, And is bonus is a pair of wings That carry him into endless skies.
[Brandon] This giant man sitting above listening to the soul of the violinist, watching the child transverse with his camera seeking to show the hidden truth. Pondering over how he was once this same child Wondering what brought him here To tower above his fellow peers seeming like a God. For he sought the same dream, To listen what plays in his heart To show others what plays in him. All is shown in this tower of empty business endeavors, deals, and entrepreneurs this was what not he wanted. For he become educated, not through a degree and classes but learning through the most difficult curriculum by not listening to his heart and to follow his dreams. He sits here miserable for conforming to what society wanted. Having all of the gold that Midas touched but all seemed like bronze with his eyes. These eyes wanted to see himself on the silver screen. He was able to portray the greatest act on himself, the act of denying his heart to the world.