I'm thankful for my memories Forest Hill to the Chesapeake They made me who I came to be Even those trips to Village Green Like a brush to a painting I will write my story On the canvas of this life's short story Like a brush to a painting I will write my story On the canvas of this life's short story Standing in the rain at North Point As the waves crash along the pier But the stillness of the water Seems to wash away my fears Like a brush to a painting I will write my story On the canvas of this life's short story Like a brush to a painting I will write my story On the canvas of this life's short story Like a brush to a painting I will write my story On the canvas of this life's short story Like a brush against the wind my friend You'll write your story again - my friend