There's something there in Williamson's Garage I think it's me trying to start a fire With autumn leaves and gasoline The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture Into my home, a real native boy Full blooded brave, a kind of show'n tell I showed him off to my Great Aunt He told me off to my white face It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture
There it hangs on the wall A thousand words, I know them all The frozen bird, a hockey puck Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Murder of crows, gathered on the power lines Murdering crows - The Blue Max will be mine To bring them down, I take my aim Then I reload, shoot again It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture
And there it hangs on the wall A thousand words, I know them all The frozen biurd, a hockey puck Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh Move on to Van Gogh Move on to Van GoghTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
