(Verse 1)
Strokes on a canvas,
Clay on the floor.
In the hands of an artist
They become something more.

(Pre Chorus)
Cause, my life is a series of misses
Of constantly kissing perfection goodbye.
My life is a work that’s unfinished,
A heart that keeps quitting,
A cup that runs dry.

(Chorus)
You, make, a symphony,
From broken melody's,
You do it beautifully.
You, take, the mass of me,
Make it a masterpiece
You make a masterpiece.

(Verse 2)
When the works in progress,
It doesn’t look like much, no.
I’m in the hands of an artist,
I either fight or trust yeah.

(Pre Chorus)
Cause, my life is a series of misses
Of constantly kissing perfection goodbye.
My life is a work that’s unfinished,
A heart that keeps quitting,
A cup that runs dry.

(Chorus)
You, make, a symphony,
From broken melody's,
You do it beautifully.
You, take, the mass of me,
Make it a masterpiece
You make a masterpiece.

(Verse 3)
Yeah. Yeah, uh.
People change when the pain of staying the same is greater.
If I’m created who am I to question the creator.
I try to figure the reasons for his decisions,
But end up being frustrated because infinite intuition is not a part of my psyche,
I’m well aware I just might be, a product of his divinely dream of being so finely tuned,
to hear the beauty of what he’s doing through me,
Composing the inner new me,
A masterpiece I am truly, a masterpiece I am truly.

(Chorus)
You, make, a symphony,
From broken melody's,
You do it beautifully.
You, take, the mass of me,
Make it a masterpiece
You make a masterpiece.