Well, there’s a portrait of my grandfather
The part of me that I will never meet
I heard he liked to play alone
In bars of Italy and Rome
I’ve heard he’s not a man you’d want to meet
And there is a map upon my wall
Of places I think now I’ll never see
But I’ll hang it above my bed
And every time I rest my head
I’ll dream of the mountains and the sea
And I’ve got your book still on my shelf
He’s twisted and he’s torn at the seam
And his pages move no more
And his words dance to no chords
Just part of you that I must always keep
And there’s a song about an ancient lover
A song about the beast inside of me
But when you got no clever rhymes
And you’re tired all the time
You need a song to pass some of the time
I wrote a song to pass some of the time
