"If I can lighten
the browns and the sand
And rub it right into where
the sky's reaching down
So it's... like the edge of a mirror…
But this blue needs to be darker, much darker…
Maybe if I can just blend it a bit…
Yes, that might do it…
almost like that"
Watching the painter painting
And all the time, the light is changing
And he keeps painting
That bit there
It was an accident
But he's so pleased
Its the best mistake
he could make
And its my favourite piece,
it's just great.
The flick of a wrist
twisting down to the hips
So the lovers begin
With a kiss in a tryst
Just a smudge
But what it becomes
in his hands
Curving and sweeping
Rising and reaching
I could feel what he was feeling
Watching the painter painting
And lines like these have got to be
An architect's dream
It's always the same
Whenever he works on a pavement
Watching the painter painting
It starts to rain
And all the time the light is changing