Deep Low Rumble

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[Intro]

Soft piano, gentle acoustic guitar, emotional country fiddle.

[Deep, warm male voice]

Before I learned to write my name,

I felt a fire, I felt a flame.

A thousand colors in my eyes,

A little artist with a dream inside.

[Verse 1]

I was born an artist, born to create,

With dreams so big, but a difficult fate.

A piece of paper, a pencil in my hand,

I dreamed of a life I could barely understand.

Since I was a child, I wanted to teach,

To share my colors, to help others reach.

I dreamed of a classroom filled with light,

Where art could make the world feel right.

[Pre]

I had a dream, I had a plan,

A world of colors in my hands.

Though life was hard and hope seemed far,

I knew inside me who I was.

[Chorus]

I was born an artist, that’s who I am,

With a brush in my hand and a heart that can.

They closed the doors, they turned me away,

But the artist inside me never faded away.

I was born an artist, I cannot deny,

My dreams were mountains reaching for the sky.

Though poverty stole the road I planned,

My soul still paints with an invisible hand.

[Instrumental]

Country banjo riff, fiddle melody, electronic house bass, and energetic four-on-the-floor drums.

[Verse 2]

I wanted to enter the school of art,

To learn the language living in my heart.

But I was poor, I had no chance,

While other dreams were given a dance.

I watched my future disappear,

I swallowed my sadness, I hid my tears.

Morocco, my homeland, where my dreams took flight,

Became the place where I lost my light.

[Pre]

I had a dream, I had a plan,

A world of colors in my hands.

Though life was hard and hope seemed far,

I knew inside me who I was.

[Chorus]

I was born an artist, that’s who I am,

With a brush in my hand and a heart that can.

They closed the doors, they turned me away,

But the artist inside me never faded away.

I was born an artist, I cannot deny,

My dreams were mountains reaching for the sky.

Though poverty stole the road I planned,

My soul still paints with an invisible hand.

[Instrumental]

Emotional fiddle solo followed by electric country guitar. The house beat grows stronger, with deep bass and rhythmic acoustic guitar.

[Bridge]

Oh, if I could return to the child I was,

I’d tell him his dreams were worthy of love.

You don’t need a classroom to feel the art,

When the whole wide world lives inside your heart.

I taught myself what no school could teach,

I searched for colors just beyond my reach.

Self-taught, self-made, through the pain and the years,

I turned my silence into colors and tears.

[BUILD]

Every color, every line,

Every dream is still alive.

Through the darkness, through the pain,

I will paint my dreams again!

[Verse 3]

Now every canvas tells my story,

Of broken dreams and hidden glory.

Every brushstroke, every line,

Says that this life and this art are mine.

They may have taken my childhood dream,

But they couldn’t silence the colors I see.

And though the teacher I hoped to become

Still lives in my heart, where the journey begun.

[Chorus]

I was born an artist, hear my name!

I walked through sorrow, I survived the pain.

No art school diploma hanging on my wall,

But I kept on painting through it all.

I was born an artist, born to be free,

The colors of the world are still calling me.

Morocco, you couldn’t bury my flame,

I am still an artist, and art is my name!

[Chorus]

I was born an artist, born to create!

I followed my dreams, despite my fate!

Through every struggle, through every scar,

I kept on painting, I followed my heart!

I was born an artist, born to be free!

The world of colors still lives in me!

No matter how far my dreams may roam,

Art is my heart, and art is my home!

[Outro]

I was born an artist…

Before the world knew who I was.

Poor in money…

But rich in dreams.

[Soft fiddle enters]

And even when my dreams evaporated…

[Brief pause]

The artist inside me never died.