Waste Of Paint - Bright Eyes
Artist : “Bright Eyes”
Song title : “Waste Of Paint”
Download MP3 : Bright Eyes - Waste Of Paint .mp3
Download Video : Bright Eyes - Waste Of Paint
i have a friend
He's mostly made of pain
He wakes up
Drives to work and straight back home again
He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper
I thought it was beautiful
I put it on a record cover
And i tried to tell him that he had a sense
Of color and composition so magnificent
And he said thank you
Please
But your flattery
It is truly not becoming me
Your eyes are poor
You're blind
You see
No beauty ever could have come from me
I'm a waste
Of breath
of space
of time
I knew a woman she was dignified and true
Her love for her man was one of her many virtues
Until one day she found out that he had lied
And decided the rest of her life from that point on would be a lie
She was grateful for everything that had happened
And she was anxious for all that would come next
But then she wept
What did you expect
In that big old house with the cars she kept
Such is life
She often said
With one day leading to the next
You get a little closer to your death
Which was fine with her
She never got upset
And with all the days she may have left
She would never clean another mess
Or fold his shirts
Or look her best
She was free
To waste away alone
Last night my brother
He got drunk and drove
And this cop
He pulled him off to the side of the road
And he said officer
officer
You've got the wrong man
No
No
I'm a student of medicine
A son of a banker
You don't understand
The cop said no one got hurt
You should be thankful
And your carelessness
It is something awful
And no i can't just let you go
And though your father's name is known
Your decisions now are yours alone
You're nothing but a stepping stone on a path
To debt
To loss
To shame
The last few months i've been living with this couple
Yeah
You know the kind who buy everything in doubles
Yeah
They fit together like a puzzle
I love their love and i am thankful
That someone actually receives the prize that was p