Lyrics Art Gallery - Galleon

Art Gallery

In my art gallery some strange things happen
By the way it’s the opening day
wilkomöl in let your mind fly away
Have some wine we ask you to stay
There are paintings that kisses
With their frames the chandelier they misses
and if a fountain of silver and gold you’ll find
just pick a coin, make a wish and a rhyme
explaining the world but looks like a broken wheel
Here in my gallery Welcome in
It’s a house of joy an husein afla
Skeleton sculptures with hollow red
eyes purple glass spiders walking on lines
A hundred rainbow coloured swords
ringing like a church carillon
Snake like rusty plumbing
crawl under the ceiling
buckled steel plates like dragon scales
A white cold breka like rime on my brim
Is this truth or fiction…
It’s what you want it to be
Here in my gallery Welcome in
It’s a house of joy a house of sin
Stay in my gallery Why don’t you come on in
I’m waiting for you Where have you been
In my gallery there’s always fun
No need to be afraid, no need to run
It’s so very brait# so full of sun
and it’s my loving doll, my honey bun…
Once there was a man
that came in here
He told me his dreams
he’s in another sphere
sucked up in the colour stage
it’s just another page
He reached a higher level
This can go on forever
Why not Pablo Picasso, maybe Renoir
It’s so easy to decide in here — you can’t go too far
The same came in here
He was lost in his dream, it was fun and so surreal
He was dancing in the colour stage
with the skeletons and the purple spiders
He said, How can this be so real…
Why not Pablo Picasso, maybe Renoir
It’s so easy to decide in here — you can’t go too far
White pearl statues smiling in marble halls
A flock of seagulls on the northern wall
Black Velvet skies in big blue eyes
I think I saw Jimi H in the haze
Crystal windows on the third floor
sugar cane fences down below
A little boy beside his mum
A poor man dressed in rag
I’m here — I feel — okay — here I’ll stay
jump in — be the mouse — in my maze
Be the mouse in my maze
I’m the cat so lets race!
Then they came — the critics of fame
They brother eyes
Sipping red wine telling lies
A point or two shoot the dice
An old man with tired eyes
A student with books in his hands
They understand much more than you know
They don’t even have a plan
Sipping red wine telling lies
A point or two now shoot the dice — shoot the dic