Waste of Paint - Bright Eyes (明亮的眼睛)
I have a friend he's mostly made of pain
He wakes up drives to work
And then 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 he had a sense of color
And composition so magnificent
And he said"Thank you please but your flattery is truly not becoming me
Your eyes are poor You are blind
You see no beauty could have come from me
I am 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 she decided the rest of her life
From that point on would be a lie
But 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
"Oh" and"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 pulled him off to the side of the road
And he said"Officer Officer You have got the wrong man
No no I'm a student of medicine
The 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 have been living with this couple
Yeah you know the kind who buy everything in doubles
They fit together like a puzzle
And I love their love and I am thankful that someone actually
Receives the prize that was promised by all those fairy tales that drugged us
And they still do me I'm sick lonely no laurel tree just green envy
Will my number come up eventually
Like Love is some kind of lottery
Where you can scratch and see what is underneath It's"Sorry"
Just one cherry"Play Again" Get lucky
So I have been hanging out down by the train's depot No I don't ride
I just sit and watch the people there
And they remind me of wind up cars in motion
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions
And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense
All your lives one track can't you see it's pointless
But then my knees give under me
My head feels weak and
Suddenly it is clear to see that it is not them but me
Who has lost my self-identity
As I hide behind these books I read while scribbling my poetry
Like art could save a wretch like me
With some ideal ideology that no one can hope to achieve
And I am never real; it is just a sketch of me
And everything I made is trite and cheap
And a waste of paint of tape of time
So now I park my car down by the cathedral
Where floodlights point up at the steeples
Choir practice was filling up with people
I hear the sound escaping as an echo
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle
When voices blend they sound like angels
I hope there is some room still in the middle
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them
The range is too high way up in heaven
So I hold my tongue forget the song
Tie my shoe and start walking off
And try to just keep moving on with my broken heart and my absent God
And I have no faith but it is all I want
To be loved and believe in my soul in my soul
