Jackson BrowneThe Painter

We see him dancing in the morning Stars depart the yawning sky He'll take the hour that is passing And leave it in his lover's eye And if you want he'll make it seem As though you're walking in his dream A mystic sea We hear him laughing in the shadows As he smuggles in the sand He's found another kind of color In the magic he has donned And if you want he'll take the time To ask the sun and moon to rhyme And then combine He draws no lines between what he's imagining
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