There’s nothing I can say
You’ll just take it the wrong way.
It’s been like this since before we met
You determined who I was, and the mould was set.
I walked into your expectations,
The canvas prearranged,
Painted me in colours dark
Your heart the gauge.
Were the canvas fresh and clean,
Another artist might have seen
to let the paint fall where it might,
enjoy the image,
love-- chiarascuro’s light.
So think what you want
See the world through those eyes
I can’t do this anymore
Lord knows I’ve tried.
I’ve tried scratching off the layers you painted on that screen
I’m not that image you’ve painted of me,
But I realise now it’s in the artist’s hand;
His heart creates what’s on that stand.