The following is a story where each sentence  sequentially corresponds with every song, with a bonus track at the end.  

In (The House) With No Locks, Trust Is The Only Currency Between Painters Of The Soul. 
Ochre, Indigo, and (Mauve) Coat the Cul-de-sac in the Clouds Above.
Deep (Red Footsteps) Stain the Ceiling, Dripping on the Forehead of a Young Painter. 
(Hypnotized) By Their Forbidden Hue, She Traces the Path Through a Cold Underground Labyrinth. 
(Rock bottom) Rubies Sprout Like Serpents From Cracks in the Mortar, Chasing Her Through the Dungeon. 
(Dusty Rays) Shine Through the Hollow to Her Refuge.
(Chasing the Light), She Burst Through Doors and Climbs to the Roof. 
A (Crimson Villain), Everything He Touches Dyed Red, Sneers, Saturating the Husk of the House in Rage. 
She slips down the sludgy shingles, this evil color bleeding through the fibers of her uniform. 
Falling from that height, a memory of her teacher appears; “red paint of hate can only be cured by a full moons light”. 
Rolling down a green grassy hill she stops; “life will never be the same without you, after the others took you away”.
Approaching dusk, the sun ducked behind thunderclouds, and the full moon unsheathed itself from the horizon. 
She catches the last rays of sunlight recovering from her fall, but she hasn’t much time before her masterpiece is ruined. 
Red streams from the windows like tears from a pleading face. 
Off the roof and onto her head, the anguished dye coats her hair scarlet as she screams out in horror. 
The hellion raging on the roof, his offering in blood, the house would soon be primed to ignite. 
Try as she might, no method could remove pigment from the facade. 
Soft blue eyes and crimson hair, she recognizes the assailant as her former teacher.
“No one took my work seriously until I became a threat to their pockets!” he bellows.
Ultracondensed white paint, her last trick to stop this cardinal calamity.
“This art is mine once again,” she asserts as the colors change rust to rose.
“My sins can’t be forgiven,”his parting words were laced with regret.
Morning birds adorn the blocks new favorite pink house.
In the End, after a hard days work, the community embraced the change.

The End Tape

The following is a story where each sentence  sequentially corresponds with every song, with a bonus track at the end. Still working on the last few sentences and one more song. Let me know what you think.

In the house with no locks, trust is the only currency between painters of the soul. 
Ochre, indigo, and mauve coat the cul-de-sac in the clouds above.
Deep red footsteps stain the ceiling, dripping on the forehead of a young painter. 
Hypnotized by their forbidden hue, she traces the path through a cold underground labyrinth. 
Rock bottom rubies sprout like serpents from cracks in the mortar, chasing her through the dungeon. 
Shut in a cupboard to shelter from her assailants, a familiar golden light glows through the grain of the wood, warming everything it touches. 
Chasing the light, the painter burst through doors and climbs through a skylight to the roof. 

A crimson villain, everything he touches dyed red, sneers, saturating the husk of the house with fury. 
She slips and slides down the sludgy shingles, this evil color bleeding through the fibers of her uniform. 
Falling from that height, a memory of her teacher appears; “red paint of hate can only be cured by a full moons light”. 
Rolling down a green grassy hill she stops; “life will never be the same without you, after the others took you away”.
Approaching dusk, the sun ducked behind the clouds, and the full moon unsheathed itself from the horizon. 
She catches the last rays of sunlight recovering from her fall, but she hasn’t much time before her masterpiece is ruined. 
Red streams from the windows like tears from a pleading face. 
Off the roof and onto her head, the anguished dye coats her hair scarlet as she screams out in horror. 
The hellion raging on the roof, his offering in blood, the house would soon be primed to ignite. 

(still in progress)
Try to spray down house, get rid of red

She recognizes something familiar in the bad guy

Bad guy is her teacher, he wants to finally be recognized for his work

She uses condensed white paint to obscure the red before it dries

Bad guy retaliates, but she overpowers him

Teacher apologizes, leaves in exile

The town loves the new pink house on the block

the end

Daspacito

Mo Dannels