They say pain can bring out the artist's best

But since you've been gone, I just can't care less

Common sense doesn't realize

It can hurt so bad

Everyday I sit in my garret staring at the floor

But my heart isn't in it anymore



There goes my inspiration

My reason for creation

There goes my inspiration

I felt it fly away when you said goodbye



Me and Gaugin used to party down

I was hung in the Louvre, I was Renoir's pal

Vincent Van Gogh used to joke with me

Now they don't come 'round

It's all over town that the master's lost his touch

I'm so lost I can hardly hold a brush



And now my palette is a sorry mix of grey and brown

And all the other art lovers stay away

'cause I'm bringing them down



Now I wander the left bank every day

Searching for my muse in sad cafes

Peddle my oils to the galleries

But they turn me down

Everybody says I'm a master of technique

But the style and the sentiment is weak