Properganda

A blind man in an exhibition of fine art
He was brought up to believe, never trust the dreams in his heart
Awaken to a flood of colour
That which is banned is just another desire

Long last!
The sound of the
Outcast!
The tables have
Turned fast!
Presenting, the man with a voice, without face or sound

The sun still shines through the changes of season, though
There's a lot to prevent it rise
At the end of a stroke, he found his reason
And opened up people's eyes