Draw Me a Sheep (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Your hands sketch what the heart already knows—
a boy, a rose, the foxes learning slow.
You've mapped the soul's terrain in simple lines,
where synaptic pathways burn like constellations,
each word a synapse firing, each image
long-term potentiation of the reader's being.
You speak in truths too big for grown-up tongues.

[Chorus]
You've drawn the world inside-out, turned it gold,
made every star a mirror we can hold,
your pencil's touch rewires what we're shown—
we're walking through your atlas, skin and bone,
and every page is home.

[Verse 2]
The desert taught you how the brain maps loss:
cortical remapping when the usual path closes,
neurogenesis blooming in the grief-struck sand.
Your words don't explain—they *create* the meaning,
mirror neurons firing in the reader's skull,
recognizing longing that they never named.
You've written the internal world outside.

[Chorus]
You've drawn the world inside-out, turned it gold,
made every star a mirror we can hold,
your pencil's touch rewires what we're shown—
we're walking through your atlas, skin and bone,
and every page is home.

[Bridge]
In theta waves of deep, half-sleeping thought,
you found the place where seeing becomes knowing—
not maps of continents but of the tender,
the essential made visible, the invisible held.
Your drawings are predictions the brain was always making,
the face we recognize before we're born.

[Chorus]
You've drawn the world inside-out, turned it gold,
made every star a mirror we can hold,
your pencil's touch rewires what we're shown—
we're walking through your atlas, skin and bone,
and every page is home.

[Outro]
The pencil rests but never truly stops—
your lines still grow through every mind that reads,
axonal branches reaching toward that star you showed us.

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**WORD COUNT (excluding section tags): 284 words** ✓