A good painter knows his colors
Knows them inside and out...

I use to tell myself you can have her
Cause you've already taken her from me...

Inside of my head
Is a vast empty space...

There's a picture on the wall
That's a masterpiece to behold...

Eye to eye
Voice to voice...

Is a wilted rose
Like a broken heart...

She's known the World over
Such an honor to look at...

The now docile hillside is speckled with remnants
Of weathered skin tones of diluted mixtures...

Candle flames are overexposed
And constantly under attack...

I'm a country boy
Through and through...

I know what it's like to hit rockbottom
I've seen it firsthand...

Hearts are made
To fall like balloons...