Jewel

Self titled

Painters

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,

Her and her canvas would follow him wherever they would go.

'Cause they were painters, and they were painting themselves

A lovely world.

Oil-streaked daisies covered the living room walls.

He put water-colored roses in her hair.

He said, "Love, I love you, I want to give you the mountains,

The sunshine, the sunset too.

I just want to give you a world as beautiful as you are to me."

'Cause I'm a painter, and I want to paint you

A lovely world.