There's something there in Williamson's Garage I think it's me trying to start a fire With autumn leaves and gasoline The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture Into my home, a real native boy Full blooded brave, a kind of show'n tell I showed him off to my Great Aunt He told me off to my white face It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture There it hangs on the wall A thousand words, I know them all The frozen bird, a hockey puck Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh Murder of crows, gathered on the power lines Murdering crows - The Blue Max will be mine To bring them down, I take my aim Then I reload, shoot again It's only a painting But not too pretty a picture And there it hangs on the wall A thousand words, I know them all The frozen biurd, a hockey puck Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh Move on to Van Gogh Move on to Van Gogh