When the entire landscape is a lonely, muted gray
Each step a trivial motion in an empty day
A wisp of a whisper, a shallow refrain
You’re callow and can’t know the purpose of the pain

But from a broader view
A muted gray is a beautiful hue

Voice by voice
Each stroke a careful choice
Adding Substance,
Adding depth, and warmth, and grit
To the Master’s portrait
To the Master’s portrait

When your entire backbone is crumbling away
A whirlwind of minutiae lurks as prey
You see through the secrets, you reach for the good
You teach yourself treaties you hope you’ve understood

But from a broader view
A chorus of comrades carries you through

Voice by voice
Each stroke a careful choice
Adding Substance,
Adding depth, and warmth, and grit

Creators and lovers, poets and priests
In each era walk down the same silent streets
And though they feel lost in their own time and place
Each soul brought together reveals God’s face

Voice by voice
Each stroke a careful choice
Adding Substance,
Adding depth, and warmth, and grit

Voice by voice
Each stroke a careful choice
Adding Substance,
Adding depth, and warmth, and grit
To the Master’s portrait
To the Master’s portrait
Voice by voice by voice