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Williamson's Garage Lyrics
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 to 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 and shoot again
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
And 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
Move on to Van Gogh...
Move on to Van Gogh...
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
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 to 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
Murdering crows - The Blue Max will be mine
To bring them down I take my aim
Then I reload and shoot again
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
And 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
Move on to Van Gogh...
Move on to Van Gogh...
Song Info
Submitted by
wrat On Jul 22, 2007
More Spirit of the West
Home For A Rest
Puttin' Up With The Joneses
Sadness Grows
If Venice Is Sinking
Ships In Full Sail
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