Making and producing music is like painting a picture. You add colors and textures to help realize the goal of creating your visions. Once produced it can either be enjoyed and interacted with, or wind up in a dirty pile of things at a flea market. Sometimes the one who created it will never know if it is appreciated by others. Sometimes it gets discovered long after the artist is gone. In the case of music like art, people often choose Elvis velvet paintings, because they’re popular, over the Van Gogh’s.

THE CHILD WAS A PAINTING
(For my grand-children, who will always know love)
Copyright 2003 Words and Music by NED ALLEN ROUSE

Once upon a time in a place where anything could happen and often did
a child was born a painting

He began so wondrous and new, looked at with awe and love
with visual fun the painting glowed

His image would grow and interact from its fancy frame
to those whom it mattered most it was a good time for the child

Maybe it was the elements or maybe it just came with time
soon he wasn't being looked at quite the same

He was moved often put in stark light left alone sometimes criticized
his frame would also wear away around him during those times

The image would fade yellow and crack with each harsh word or critique as he aged
sometimes he faced the other way in his frame

Put downs and anger would splatter and cover him with old dirt and debris
it slowly built up and made him harder to see

Until finally his image disappeared and went away
it left his family regretting the love they could have shown but did not display

The frame fell to pieces with the ripped worn canvas still fading....
....after all the child was a painting

When I wrote this song, I wanted to write the type of song that I heard when I was a little boy like, "The Little Tin Soldier", or "Puff the Magic Dragon". These songs made me appreciate never discarding anyone you love. I also wanted it to be about a boy I knew, who shall remain anonymous. Like the painting, he was held under constant scrutiny, moved all over the country, and slowly turned from a beautiful boy into a gothic looking person with low self esteem. Pictures of him when he was younger show a boy standing straight and tall. Photos of him as a scarred young man portray a broken, weary soul. Out of the ashes comes my resolve that my grandchildren will always know the kind of love that will lift them up.

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COPYRIGHT © 2012
By NED ALLEN ROUSE

BUY NED’S CD’S
AT BARNES & NOBLE

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