The Painter

Caught up in feeling alright

Don't you get tired

Of all the people who try to tell you

That your vision ain't right

Grown up waiting around

You were the paint drying

Spilled all your colors upon the ground

Only to watch 'em running out in the light

Shakin' like a leaf on a tree

When the winds of fall have come

Patience, it's a hell of a drug

But nobody has enough

Still up and shifting around

Don't it get dark

When all ya can hear is the sound

Of the voices as they just grow louder?

So will ya learn to tune it all out?

The longer they keep trying

To slow up that momentum you found

Learning to wait for all the good things and makin' 'em count

Shakin' like a leaf on a tree

When the winds of fall have come

Patience, it's a hell of a drug

But nobody has enough

Shakin' like a leaf on a tree

Just knowing you're the next one

Patience, it's the deepest cut

Nobody's heard it enough

While your brushes lay dry in the window

A canvas stares back at you white

Yeah it leans there naked on your bedpost

Stark and devoid, it taunts you in the night

But just beyond it in your line of vision

Hangs the first one you ever did

Well, that page it used to be empty too, til ya sat up and started it