Text: Six Pence None The Richer. Divine Discontent. Melody of You.

You're a painting with symbols deep, a symphony
Soft as it shifts from dark beneath
A poem that flows caressing my skin
In all of these things you reside and I
Want you flow from the pen, bow and brush
Then paper and string and canvas tight
With ink in the air, to dust your light?
From morning to the black of night

This is my call I belong to you
This is my call to sing the melodies 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 variations 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 till the day has passed

This is my call I belong to you
This is my call to sing the melodies of you
This is my call I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else

This is my call I belong to you
This is my call to sing the melodies of you
This is my call I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else

This is my call I belong to you
This is my call to sing the melodies of you
This is my call I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else

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