Trouble with Classicists - Lou Reed (娄.里德)/John Cale
The trouble with a classicist
He looks at a tree
That's all he sees he paints a tree
The trouble with a classicist
He looks at the sky
He doesn't ask why he just paints the sky
The trouble with an impressionist
He looks at a log he doesn't know who he is standing staring at this log
And surrealist memories are too amorphous and proud
While those downtown macho painters are just alcoholic
That's the trouble with impressionists
That's the trouble with impressionists
That's the trouble with impressionists
That's the trouble with impressionists
The trouble with personalities they're too wrapped up in style
It's too personal they're in love with their own guile
They're like illegal aliens trying to make a buck
They're driving gypsy cabs but they're thinking like a truck
That's the trouble with personalities
That's the trouble with personalities
That's the trouble with personalities
That's the trouble with personalities
I like the druggy downtown kids who spray paint walls and trains
I like their lack of training their primitive technique
I think sometimes it hurts you when you stay too long in school
I think sometimes it hurts you when you're afraid to be called a fool
That's the trouble with classicists
That's the trouble with classicists
That's the trouble with classicists
That's the trouble with classicists
