The man with no imagination
Sits alone in his chair
He lives quite an interesting life.
His walls are all slate
His shelves are all clean
He lives with no joy and no strife.

His oceans never roar
His skies are all dark
His rain doesn’t wash away the past
His trees never sway
His birds only chirp
His clouds are all shapeless and flat
His moon has no face
His hills never roll
His sun only sunburns his back

My life is all blue
And green, red, and bright
My room is a loud yellow-green
I’m happy and sad
(Depending on the day)
But I can also be angry and mean

My tongue tastes the rain
My trees sway back and forth
My birds sing me songs from their beds
My clouds take on shapes
My moon smiles at me
My sun sets and turns my world red!

The man with no imagination
Turned to me looking sad
And he got up and came to my side
I took his hand
And showed him the world
(Well, I showed him the world through my eyes)