Phil Brown - David Mallett

I knew a painter in my younger days

A man who lived with brushes, sticks and stones

His days were filled with canvas scenes

Of browns and blues and meadow greens

And the world just passed on by his door

He lived, but lived alone

And he’d come to town with his old wool cap pulled down

Surrounded by the dogs that were his friends

At time too drunk to stand, he’d shake familiar hands

And sit around the Esso station, 'til his loneliness would end

And I knew a painter, in my reckless days

Bristle bearded, humble on his feet

A sympathetic, sad old elf

He knew me better than I knew myself

In the last days of my boyhood

In my time upon the street

And long through the night, a faded yellow light

Would burn inside the room where he would stand

And play the old victrola and drink his rusty wine

And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and shaking hand

But he could paint a picture, and he could capture life

And no one ever felt things more than he

He was never much for roses, he’d sooner paint the thorns

'Cause he found a keener beauty there

That no one else could see

Someone bought the house he lived in

Painted up the room he died in

Swept away the cobwebs and the dust from off the floor

The children laugh, the seasons run

Young lovers roll in midnight fun

But no one loves more than the one

Who paints the world no more

And long through the night, a faded yellow light

Would burn inside the room where he would stand

And play the old victrola and drink his rusty wine

And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and shaking hand