I Paint the Town ©2012 Robert George BMI

I set up my easel on the streets of New Orleans
And a finished canvas is the captain of my dreams
Sometimes I arrange a tiny painter’s gallery
And I sell my art, in a local park beside a shady tree
Well, it started as a hobby
And it helped me give up booze
Once I’d paint the town with whiskey
Now I paint with vibrant hues

And I capture this great city
With my colors and my brush
And I hope to find a spirit
That my work will touch
Lover’s dancing on the sidewalk
Street musicians, mimes and clowns
Poor and wealthy, young and old, I can feel this city’s soul
When I paint the town

Lotsa people look politely…smile and then move on
But it almost seemed as if she stayed all morning long
Starin’ at a painting that I’d tried to sell for years
Just a slice of life, soldier and his wife were kissing on a pier
Said she had no money with her
Fortune hadn’t gone her way
Would I save the painting for her
Till she came back that day

O I capture this great city
With my colors and my brush
And I hope to find a spirit
That my work will touch
Lover’s waltzing on the sidewalk
Street magicians, mimes and clowns
Weak and healthy, strong and bold, I can sense this city’s soul
When I paint the town

Night was movin’ in, and a river wind
Cut through that old park
Barely fifty dollars richer, I was puttin’ all my pictures
In my wooden cart

Then I saw her walkin’ toward me in the fading light
And she wore a tattered brown coat that was buttoned tight
Then her sad eyes told her husband’s tale to me
And I told her she could take that painting home for free
She said she still hears his footsteps
Up n down her lonely hall
Now she’ll hang their final mem’ry
By the flag that’s on the wall

O I capture this great city
With my colors and my brush
And I pray to find a spirit
That my work will touch
Lover’s dancing on the sidewalk
Street musicians, mimes and clowns
Poor and wealthy, young and old, I can feel this city’s soul
When I paint the town