Phil Brown

[Verse 1]
I knew a painter in my younger days
A man who lived with brushes, sticks and stones
His days were filled with canvas scenes
Of browns and blues and meadow greens
And the world just passed on by his door
He lived, but lived alone

[Verse 2]
And he'd come to town
With his old wool cap pulled down
Surrounded by the dogs that were his friends
At times too drunk to stand
He'd shake familiar hands
Sit around the Esso station, 'til his loneliness would end

[Verse 3]
And I knew a painter in my reckless days
Bristle bearded, humble on his feet
A sympathetic, sad old elf
He knew me better than I knew myself
In the last days of my boyhood
In the time upon the street

[Verse 4]
And long through the night
A faded yellow light
Would burn inside the room where he would stand
And play the old Victrola
And drink his rusty wine
And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and shakin' hand

[Verse 5]
But he could paint a picture
And he could capture life
And no one ever felt things more than he
He was never much for roses
He'd sooner paint the thorns
'Cause he found a keener beauty there that no one else could see

[Verse 6]
Someone bought the house he lived in
And painted up the room he died in
And then swept away the cobwebs and the dust from off the floor
The children laugh, the seasons run
Young lovers roll in midnight fun
But no one loves more than the one who paints the world no more

[Verse 4]
And long through the night
A faded yellow light
Would burn inside the room where he would stand
And play the old Victrola
And drink his rusty wine
And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and shaking hand