Mike Gordon - Paint lyrics
[Mike Gordon - Paint lyrics]
You painted peachy for my hands
Sienna red dab for her leg
Then you paint my head to think about you
Turquise glintz my eyelash tint
To me it's just graffiti on my brain
But who am I to complain?
Swirls of blue hue for the background
You're out of green so the hills are brown
Dull little town in the valley will abound
Perspectives are sort of getting contorted
My world is flat, I think I feel constrained
But who am I to complain?
You paint me a gate that's a passage out
So I can jump canvas and move about
Not quite dry, but I feel so real out here
Drop your wet brush and grab my hem
We twirl and fall and mush ourselves insane
But who am I to complain?
Who am I to complain?
You made me who I am today
Who am I to complain anyway?
We can drive it down to Jamaica
Shake it to the ghetto da bomb down
Instead you're still but to me you know
You're critically acclaimed
Slash my legs, cross your floor
In halogen light, I glow in your refrain
Oh, baby, paint
Paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint
Paint
Another show, no pieces sold
In your portfolio
Packed up with the cheese and pink champagne
And as lose you faith in all you made
I flattened back to the confines of the frame
But who am I to complain?
Who am I to complain?
You made me who I am today
Who am I to complain anyway?
Sienna red dab for her leg
Then you paint my head to think about you
Turquise glintz my eyelash tint
To me it's just graffiti on my brain
But who am I to complain?
Swirls of blue hue for the background
You're out of green so the hills are brown
Dull little town in the valley will abound
Perspectives are sort of getting contorted
My world is flat, I think I feel constrained
But who am I to complain?
You paint me a gate that's a passage out
So I can jump canvas and move about
Not quite dry, but I feel so real out here
Drop your wet brush and grab my hem
We twirl and fall and mush ourselves insane
But who am I to complain?
Who am I to complain?
You made me who I am today
Who am I to complain anyway?
We can drive it down to Jamaica
Shake it to the ghetto da bomb down
Instead you're still but to me you know
You're critically acclaimed
Slash my legs, cross your floor
In halogen light, I glow in your refrain
Oh, baby, paint
Paint, paint, paint, paint, paint, paint
Paint
Another show, no pieces sold
In your portfolio
Packed up with the cheese and pink champagne
And as lose you faith in all you made
I flattened back to the confines of the frame
But who am I to complain?
Who am I to complain?
You made me who I am today
Who am I to complain anyway?