Painting
Ain't no color paint gonna cover the stains
The pictures on the wall will all remain
And even though he's home now, sound and safe
Surrounded by the faces that he places faith
The images visit from the past he witnessed
Can't stay away from the memory, sticks with
Each detail, embeded in stone
Like he chisels those convictions into his bones
The progress stops and pauses
Spits and sputters like the basment faucet
And its obvious hes lost in his regrets
You can smell it on his breath
Aint no color paint gonna cover the stains
But now the alcohol is gonna mother the pain
Tuck it away, no complaints
Just layin on his back on his backyard, under the rain
Take tomorrow, but doesn't know how though
For ever swallow, theres another to follow
He weaves his way throughout the story
Looking for a new missing piece or a door key
Spirits used to be for celebration
But now they just take him away from the hell thats waitin
Re-up until its three sheets up
And pick a place for the skeletons to meet up
Aint no color paint gonna cover the stains
But if the oxygen escapes, it'll smother the flames
No introduction, doesnt speak his own name
Gonna beat them demons at they own game
The sunset rides to the end slopes
Same song echoing outside of the window
You cant grow if the skin dont fit you
Sometimes you gotta get low just to get through
No inspiration left to do your best when
Nobody hates you more than your reflection
Suffer the shame until it stuffs the drain
He's got two hands and a bucket of paint, c'mon
The pictures on the wall will all remain
And even though he's home now, sound and safe
Surrounded by the faces that he places faith
The images visit from the past he witnessed
Can't stay away from the memory, sticks with
Each detail, embeded in stone
Like he chisels those convictions into his bones
The progress stops and pauses
Spits and sputters like the basment faucet
And its obvious hes lost in his regrets
You can smell it on his breath
Aint no color paint gonna cover the stains
But now the alcohol is gonna mother the pain
Tuck it away, no complaints
Just layin on his back on his backyard, under the rain
Take tomorrow, but doesn't know how though
For ever swallow, theres another to follow
He weaves his way throughout the story
Looking for a new missing piece or a door key
Spirits used to be for celebration
But now they just take him away from the hell thats waitin
Re-up until its three sheets up
And pick a place for the skeletons to meet up
Aint no color paint gonna cover the stains
But if the oxygen escapes, it'll smother the flames
No introduction, doesnt speak his own name
Gonna beat them demons at they own game
The sunset rides to the end slopes
Same song echoing outside of the window
You cant grow if the skin dont fit you
Sometimes you gotta get low just to get through
No inspiration left to do your best when
Nobody hates you more than your reflection
Suffer the shame until it stuffs the drain
He's got two hands and a bucket of paint, c'mon
Credits
Writer(s): John Patitucci
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.