| C | F | C | F | |
| I | ha | ve | a friend, he's mostly made of paint |
| C | F | C | F | |
| He | w | ak | es up, drives to work and straight back home again |
| C | F | C | F | |
| He | o | nc | e cut one of my nightmares out of paper |
| C | F | C | F | |
| I | th | ou | ght it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover |
| G | C | F | |
| An | d | I tried to tell him that he had a sense |
| G | C | F | |
| Of | c | olor and composition so magnificent |
| F | G | F | G | |
| An | d | he | said thank you, please, but your flattery |
| F | G | F | G | |
| It | i | s | truly not becoming me |
| F | G | F | G | |
| Yo | ur | e | yes are poor, you're blind, you see |
| F | G | F | G | |
| No | b | ea | uty ever could have come from me |
| C | F | |
| I' | m a waste |
| C | F | C | F | C | F | |
| Of | b | re | at | h, | of space, of time |
| END |
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| | This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation | |
| | of the song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, | |
| | or research. | |
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