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Waste Of Paint  Bright Eyes


















[C]I [F]ha[C]ve[F] a friend, he's mostly made of paint
[C]He[F] w[C]ak[F]es up, drives to work and straight back home again
[C]He[F] o[C]nc[F]e cut one of my nightmares out of paper
[C]I [F]th[C]ou[F]ght it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover
[G]An[C]d [F]I tried to tell him that he had a sense
[G]Of[C] c[F]olor and composition so magnificent

[F]An[G]d [F]he[G] said thank you, please, but your flattery
[F]It[G] i[F]s [G]truly not becoming me
[F]Yo[G]ur[F] e[G]yes are poor, you're blind, you see
[F]No[G] b[F]ea[G]uty ever could have come from me
[C]I'[F]m a waste
[C]Of[F] b[C]re[F]at[C]h,[F] of space, of time

END

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