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Eighty Years, An Old Lady Now, Sitting On the Front Porch / Watching the Clouds Roll By / They Remind Her of Her Lover, How He Left Her, and of Times Long Ago / When She Used Color Carelessly, Painted His Portrait / a Thousand Times--or Maybe Just His Smile-- / and She and Her Canvas Would Follow Him Wherever He Would Go
'cause They Were Painters and They Were Painting Themselves / a Lovely World
Oil-streaked Daisies Covered the Living Room Wall / He Put Water-colored Roses in Her Hair / He Said, "Love, I Love You, I Want to Give You Mountains, the Sunshine / the Sunset Too / I Want to Give You Everything As Beautiful As You Are to Me."
'cause They Were Painters and They Were Painting Themselves / a Lovely World
So They Sat Down and Made a Drawing of Their Love, An Art to Live By / They Painted Every Passion, Every Home, Created Every Beautiful Child / in the Winter They Were Weavers of Warmth / in Summer They Were Carpenters of Love / They Thought Blue Prints Were Too Sad So They Made Them Yellow
'cause They Were Painters and They Were Painting Themselves / a Lovely World
Until One Day the Rain Fell As Thick As Black Oil / and in Her Heart She Knew Something Was Wrong / She Went Running / Through the Orchard Screaming, / "No God, Don't Take Him From Me!" / But By the Time She Got There, She Feared He Already Had Gone
She Got to Where He Lay, Water-colored Roses in His Hands For Her / She Threw Them Down Screaming, 'damn You Man, Don't Leave Me / With Nothing Left Behind But These Cold Paintings, These Cold Portraits / to Remind Me!"
He Said, "Love I Leave, But Only a Little, Try to Understand / I Put My Soul in This Life We Created With These Four Hands / Love, I Leave, But Only a Little, This World Holds Me Still / My Body May Die Now, But These Paintings Are Real."
So Many Seasons Came and Many Seasons Went / and Many Times She Saw Her Love's Face Watering the Flowers, / Talking to the Trees and Singing to His Children / and When the Wind Blew, She Knew He Was Listening, / and How He Seemed to Laugh Along, and How He Seemed to Hold Her / When She Was Crying
'cause They Were Painters and They Were Painting Themselves / a Lovely World
Eighty Years, An Old Lady Now, Sitting On the Front Porch / Watching the Clouds Roll By, They Remind Her of Her Lover / How He Left Her and of Times Long Ago, When She Used to Color Carelessly, / Painted His Portrait a Thousand Times, Or Maybe Just His Smile, / and She and Her Canvas Would Follow Him Wherever He Would Go / Yes, She and Her Canvas Still Follow
Because They Are Painters and They Are Painting Themselves / a Lovely World
Otras canciones de Quindon Tarver
Znajomość tego, co mówi tekst Painters, pozwala nam włożyć więcej uczucia w wykonanie.
Jeśli Twoim motywem do szukania tekstu piosenki Painters było to, że absolutnie Ci się podoba, mamy nadzieję, że będziesz cieszyć się jej śpiewaniem.
Coś, co zdarza się częściej, niż myślimy, to że ludzie szukają tekstu Painters, ponieważ jest w niej jakieś słowo, którego nie do końca rozumieją i chcą upewnić się, co ono oznacza.
Kłócisz się ze swoim partnerem, ponieważ rozumiecie różne rzeczy, słuchając Painters? Posiadanie tekstu piosenki Painters wykonanej przez Quindon Tarver może rozstrzygnąć wiele sporów, i mamy nadzieję, że tak się stanie.
Mamy nadzieję, że pomogliśmy Ci z tekstem piosenki Painters wykonanej przez Quindon Tarver.
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