There's a city in this world, brimming with lights and swarming with life
And in this city, there's a lot of happiness, and conflicts causing strife
Through the green and quiet parks couples take their daily strolls
Arguments and fights break out, loud noises from the city halls
Birth and death, happiness and sadness, marriage and heartbreak
Justice and crime, buy and sell, make and destroy, give and take
All in the same way, each and every day, over and over again
Locked in everlasting combat, the sun and the rain
There's a room in a house in this city that's painted white
White ceiling, white walls, white floor, it's all white alright
A normal room, an empty room, with an unlocked door
A speck of colour moves through this room, wanting more
What colour is the speck you ask? All and none, can take the form of any
It knows of the world outside, for it has heard stories. Many.
The speck will not open the door.
It just lies there, on the floor.
It boils and bubbles red. It seethes in green.
It weeps in blue, in black it gets awfully mean
In purple it prostrates, in orange it soars
Room resounds from its sickly yellow roars
The speck was part of the room, it went out of it one day
Stained by the colours of the world, it went back on its way
Many things it saw, many things it touched. Mimicked their colour
Never content, never fulfilled, the shine of a colour, lasts for an hour
But what a glorious hour, to be free from the white of the room
To twin another's joy, to live through them, to copy their gloom
However endless colours there are not, just shades all fading to gray
Causing the speck to go back to the room, and lament in dismay
Waiting. Just waiting. The colour slowly drains, turning to white
Will the speck become part of the room again? Or assert its might?
The colours it has taken, they are forsaken. The speck is just white
No matter how hard it stains, it's centre, its soul is nothing - white
It's all a game. It's all a joke. An empty room, an empty white
Cannot be touched by such a strange thing as a ray of sunlight
Laugh in white and cry in black, what that makes for is just gray
Do you bear it deep inside little speck? Or do you unleash your dismay?
