Phil Brown
Words and Music by David Mallett


(Originally released on the Vignette album. Coming Home (out of print) 1982)


I knew a painter, in my younger days
His hands were filled with brushes, sticks and stones
His days were filled with canvas scenes
And browns and blues,and meadow greens
And the world just passed on by his door,
He lived but he lived alone

And he’d come to town, with his old wool hat pulled down
Surrounded by the dogs that were his friends
At times too drunk to stand, he’d shake familiar hands
Then he’d sit around the Esso station til his loneliness would end

And I knew a painter, in my reckless days
Bristle bearded and humble on his feet
A sympathetic, sad old elf
He knew me better than I knew myself
In the last days of my boyhood, in my time upon the street

And long through the night, a faded yellow light
Would burn inside the room that he would stand
Then he’d play his old Victrola, and drink his rusty wine
And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and achin’ hands

But he could paint a picture, and he could capture life
And no one ever felt things more than he
He was never much for roses, he’d sooner paint the thorns
Cause he found a keener beauty there, that no one else could see

Someone bought the house he lived in, painted up the room he died in
And they swept away the cobwebs, the dust from off the floor
The seasons change, the children run
Young lovers roll in midnight fun
But no one loves more than the one, who paints the world no more

And long through the night, a faded yellow light
Would burn inside the room that he would stand
Then he’d play his old Victrola, and drink his rusty wine
And conduct the Mozart music with his heart and achin’ hands

©Cherry Lane Music, ASCAP