And I know that I wasn't in the picture Tried to paint it, looking perfect And it never worked for the both of us I'mma let you know, now I'll let you go You should fly, for the first time in a long time Just fly, let you go, let you go Let you fly, for

I'm the number one fan He said please come to Boston For the springtime I'm stayin' here with some friends And they've got lots of room You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon Please come to Boston

You know I'm always good for a good time I'm up for just about anything as long as it's almost legal I can fit in with any old crowd, long as there's a party, they're my kind of people So if you're down with painting the town, I'll be around all night I

A grey white face painted in a shape of a skull A shadowy Loa, with red eyes, so cold in the dark You are my call of the day Praying to open the gate You’ve been fooled by Marie For years we been sealing the deal You, for immortality Breathing, breathing

I'm at a loss for words, I'm at a loss for words Even Da Vinci couldn't paint you Rosetta Stone could not translate you I couldn't put it in a novel I wrote a page, but it was awful Now I just want to sing your gospel Stephen Hawking can't explain you I

You know I'm always good for a good time I'm up for just about anything as long as it's almost legal I can fit in with any old crowd, long as there's a party, they're my kind of people So if you're down with painting the town, I'll be around all night I

I'm the number one fan He said please come to Boston For the springtime I'm stayin' here with some friends And they've got lots of room You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon Please come to Boston

I'm the number one fan He said please come to Boston For the springtime I'm stayin' here with some friends And they've got lots of room You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk By a cafe where I hope to be workin' soon Please come to Boston

When Daddy let me drive A young boy two hands on the wheel I can't replace the way it made me feel It's painted red, the stripe was white It was eighteen feet from the bow to the stern light Second hand from a dealer in Atlanta I rode up with Daddy when

Shaped yellow light And it picks you up And cuts you down to size In the painted faces congregate In the mating season The seconds homes They go alone In no rush leave 'em And there's a fountain