Waste Of Paint Lyrics - Lifted Or The Story Is In The Soil, Keep Your Ear To The Ground - Bright Eyes

I have a friend, he is made mostly of pain 

And he wakes up, drives to work, and then straight back home again 

He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper 

Well, 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 

And 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 happens 

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 

And "Such is life," she often said 

With one day leading her 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, he pulled him off to the side of the road 

And he said, "Officer, officer, you got the wrong man 

No, no, I'm a student of medicine, a 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 are 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 

Oh, 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 scratch and see what's underneath 

It's 'sorry, just one cherry', 'play again', 'get lucky' 

So I have been hanging out down by the trains 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 live's one track, can't they see it's pointless? 

But then, my knees give under me 

My head feels weak and suddenly it is clear to see 

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 could hope to achieve 

And I am never real, it is just a sketch in 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 the floodlights point up at the steeples 

Choir practice was filling up with people 

Could hear the sound escaping as an echo 

Sloping off the ceiling at an angle 

And when the voices blend they sound like angels 

I hope there's 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 

And so I hold my tongue, forget the song 

Tie my shoe, 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, in my soul, in my soul