My young son is a bit of an artist...scary-good, actually. And he'd rather spend his time sketching that just about anything else. His drawing are a window into his mind...and a connection to me. This is his song.

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My young son is a bit of an artist...scary-good, actually. And he'd rather spend his time sketching that just about anything else. His drawing are a window into his mind...and a connection to me. This is his song.

Draw Me A Picture
Timothy A. Perry © June 19, 2001

Verse 1:
Young boy fast asleep, while pictures roam his mind.
Young boy dreamin’ deep, hoping he will find,
A way to get the pictures down, just the way he sees.
With a freshened point on his Ticonderoga Number 3.

Verse 2:
As his eyes grow open, and greet the light of day.
Images that shape his dreams grow dim and fade away.
He rubs his face, lets out a yawn, shakes off the mornin’ chill.
He’s drawn into this sunny day, like ink into a quill.

Chorus:
Draw me a picture,
Plain...in black and white.
Draw me all the things that make a difference in your life.
There may come a day when I can’t read the way you feel.
So, draw me a picture, and keep this magic real.

Verse 3:
The hand that holds the pencil is the hand that brings to life
Drawings of important things like birds and snakes and mice.
Rabbits, bugs and running streams, little boy toys but grown up dreams.
With a freshened point on his Ticonderoga Number 3.

Verse 4:
From the moment young boy rises and lifts himself from bed.
To the time he lets go of the day, lays down his weary head.
Pencil, paper, pink eraser, ready to engage.
To make the bridge from fantasy to pictures on a page.

Chorus:
So...draw me a picture,
Plain...in black and white.
Draw me all the things that make a difference in your life.
There may come a day when I can’t read the way you feel.
So, draw me a picture, and keep this magic real.