Brushed

It’s in a stroke of a brush
It’s in the wave of a hand
And a view so bright
It turns the world
And makes all right
Yet seems to say
Come what may
You will be what you will
With a brush stroke of fate
You will have to think again
If you touch by it all
Lucky to be brushed by it all —
Than walk a crooked mile
In a worn out smile
That you found on the ground
Somebody else threw it down
Looks like that you’re the next bessed in town
It’s in a verse that you read
It’s in the tune in your head
That makes all light
Turns your world
Illuminates life
And makes you see