You're a painting with symbols deep, A symphony, soft as it shifts to dark beneath A poem that flows, caressing my skin In all of these things you reside and I want to flow from the pen, bow, and brush, Then paper, string, and canvas touch With ink and the air to dust your light From morning 'til the black of night This is my call, I belong to you This is my call, to sing the melody of you This is my call, I can do nothing else I can do nothing else You're the scent of an unfound bloom A simple tune, I only write variation to A drink that will knock me down on the floor A key that will unlock the door Where I hear a voice sing familiar themes Then beckons me weave notes in between A bow and a string, a tap and a glass You pour me, 'til the day has passed This is my call, I belong to you This is my call, to sing the melody of you This is my call, I can do nothing else I can do nothing else