[In the style of Don McLean and his Vincent] [Intro] [Male vocals only] [Mmmmm ... Mmmmm) [Verse 1] You'd draw at the kitchen table, midnight oil, ..... "a single light" With Indian ink and steady hand, you drew the world to ..... "black and white" Pen nib scratching out the lines, the bridges, "stone by stone" ... "they’d rise and stand" Every line a quiet "witness" to the patience in your ..... "hands" [Chorus] (And you painted all the beauty that most men just ... "walk on by" Charcoal cottages in winter, acrylic clouds ... "across the sky" Oil boats in harbour waters, nets asleep ... "against the pier" And Daniel in the Den of Lions — masterpiece we hold so dear) (a masterpiece we hold so dear) [Verse 2] Charcoal dust upon your fingers, smudged like ....."storms on coastal days" Sketching shadows, life from still life, apples, bottles, ..... "worn bouquets" You could catch a soul with pencil, in a portrait’s "patient stare" Tell their story in the furrows, ..... "every worry, every prayer" [Bridge] (And you painted all the beauty that most men just ... "walk on by" Charcoal cottages in winter, acrylic clouds ... "across the sky" Oil boats in harbour waters, nets asleep ... "against the pier" And Daniel in the Den of Lions — masterpiece we hold so dear) (a masterpiece we hold so dear) [Mmmmm ... Mmmmm) [Verse 3] You taught me how to see the edges, "where the light falls and begins" How a cottage holds a memory in the ..... "weather of its skin" So I’ll walk your harbors, father, "where the tide still draws and flows" And I’ll find you in the inkwork, ..... "in the way the river goes" Bridge (Weathered hands and smudged-up ape-rin, "turpentine and linseed air" Midnight ticking, you were working, putting all your sorrow there Now the easel sits in silence, but the paintings understand All the bridges, all the harbours, still held in your steady hand) [Mmmmm ... Mmmmm) [Final Chorus] (And you painted all the beauty that most men just "walk on by" Charcoal cottages in winter, acrylic clouds "across the sky" Oil boats in harbour waters, nets asleep "against the pier" And Daniel in the Den of Lions — masterpiece we hold so dear) (a masterpiece we hold so dear) (‘Cause you painted all the beauty that most men just walk on by Pen and Indian ink in shadows, oil and acrylic sky Every bridge you built on canvas is a place I still can stand And Daniel in the Den of Lions sleeps beneath your steady hand) (Sleeps beneath your steady hand) [outro] [fade out]
