Lyrics

I saw the stain on your summer dress
Don’t you worry ‘cause I know you did your best
The Fruits of Life are hard to paint
‘cause colours bleed and fingers stain

Detail’s in the shadows – blinding yellow’s what you use
A desperate, splashing, smothering, trashing, covering cheerful hue
Our ache inside revolves around the yellows we abuse
Hiding from the life we find in something borrowed, something blue

We’re all restless as a still life
We look perfect in our place
One brushstroke shows a movement
And it all just falls away

We film our dreams
And worship these images of life
All praise the silver screen

The canvas that we live on has been cut to fit our frame
We’re all just different colours, different shades of joy and pain
You have to trust the Artist – that the chaos is restrained
The balance of perfection – and the seconds that we stain…

So I will shine, purest white, a pulsing red
That fades to orange to set a sun on skin we’ve shed
A suntan brown will show our scars are marks of wisdom found
And I will glow for you – in my brightest colours

© 1998 lance saint ash