Williamson's Garage

There's something there in Williamson's Garage
 I think it's me trying to start a fire
 With autumn leaves and gasoline
 The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves
 It's only a painting
 But not too pretty a picture
 Into my home, a real native boy
 Full blooded brave, a kind of show'n tell
 I showed him off to my Great Aunt
 He told me off to my white face
 It's only a painting
 But not too pretty a picture
 There it hangs on the wall
 A thousand words, I know them all
 The frozen bird, a hockey puck
 Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
 Murder of crows, gathered on the power lines
 Murdering crows - The Blue Max will be mine
 To bring them down, I take my aim
 Then I reload, shoot again
 It's only a painting
 But not too pretty a picture
 And there it hangs on the wall
 A thousand words, I know them all
 The frozen biurd, a hockey puck
 Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
 Move on to Van Gogh
 Move on to Van Gogh