When you are born,
A path is made for you in pencil.
As you grow up,
You erase and alter things
As well as change parts into pen.
You keep writing, changing
And entwining your lines with others,
As well as cutting off some,
Until there is no more paper left to write on.
A path is made for you in pencil.
As you grow up,
You erase and alter things
As well as change parts into pen.
You keep writing, changing
And entwining your lines with others,
As well as cutting off some,
Until there is no more paper left to write on.