Lyrics

Three types of snow you said
One night after we first met
We only had a few more days
There was no way to win that race
Because you said on fastest planes
If glue's not dry
Wing break off into the sky

Your hand lost in my tangled curls
My heart lost somewhere in your words
Van Gogh ruined it for us
We're not all willing to cut off
But sure enough thoughts interrupt
You squinted you eyes
Said never touched hair so different than mine.

But no need to send you ear to me
To make your feelings clear to me
Just turn away and start to paint
My face as you remember it

Cause if your hands are guided by
An instinct to widen my eyes
And if I find so disproportioned
Lips of mine so smeared and swollen

Then I'll know it then I'll know it
Not in vain was spent a moment
Art is not you said yourself
What it was but how it felt

Cause big enough eyes can't be drawn
When it's you they watch in awe
And lips that you've kissed
Aren't accurate
When they are left and missed
They're left a mess
They're left a mess

So no need to send your ear to me
Your feelings will be clear to me
I'll pray your canvas shows a mass of
dark and foreign restless strands
But just as soon as I see
A color palette at my cheek
A ruler lined up to my mouth
No lash is added or left out
Then I'll know it then I'll know it
Wings can break before you've flown
And art is not I tell myself
What it was but how it felt

Three types of snow you claim
Your theories seem to all relate
Along with winters wings on planes
Insane painters boys who stay
On pedestals where they are placed
All share a common theme
When expected below
They all fall differently

I met you too early
Or too late not sure
Depending how your brush strokes turn
We may give it a go
Give it a good ol' Van Gogh.