Lyrics:
and then you lose
Oh Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues
Oh Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues
Oh Lord, I got the Zimmerman blues
Oh Lord, I got the Zimmerman
the passion and the saving grace
I slept one rainy night with you in Paris
Made up for a thousand wasted years
Dearest Esmeralda, you are magic
I close
Oh, hear this Robert Zimmerman
I wrote a song for you
About a strange young man called Dylan
With a voice like sand and glue
Some words had
want you bad as the head shattered on George Zimmerman
After the Dillinger hit him diligently and killing him
His mouthpiece for a Cadillac emblem
Grace
A piece of canvas is only the beginning for
It takes on character with every loving stroke
This thing of beauty is the passion of an Artist's
on George Zimmerman
After the Dillinger hit him diligently and killing him
His mouthpiece for a Cadillac emblem
That's analogy and metaphor for you
I
Perfect petals punctuate the fabrics yellow blue
Silver platters with strawberries strewn across the room
In Zimmerman with sandals on one summer
I wrote this song for Louise Nevelson, the sculptor,
Also Billie Holiday, and a group of kick-ass women artists.
Sappho was a poet
Billie was
You've got to try, for the kingdom
You've got to try, for the kingdom
On high, you've got to try,
By His grace, by His grace
You've got to live
Stella she gave me a state of grace
I'm armour plated 4 inches thick
Now all I got was a little taste
I'm gibbering like a lunatic
Stella
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
a mothafuckin' thug
It's all about the Benjamins
Nigga, fuck George Zimmerman
How it's pistol versus hand?
Take your whoopin' like a mothafuckin' man
Pussy,
Kyle is a killer
Zimmerman's a killer
Cosgrove is a killer
Another murderer set free
By the powers that be
Justice wasn't served today
Never is
this picture of grace
How skillful the hands of the artist
Who painted this picture of me
He saw with the eye's of a master
How beautiful my life
The virtue of your style inscribed
On your contempt for mine
Jesus was a beggar, he was rich in grace
And Solomon kept his head in all his glory
It's just
The virtue of your style inscribed
On your contempt for mine
Jesus was a beggar, he was rich in grace
And Solomon kept his head in all his glory
It's just
in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me
Yoko and me
And that's reality
The dream is over
What
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see
It was grace that
Fuck a job, you never raised for larger amounts
Keep the lights on, front door locked
'Cause the villains in the wilderness, lotta George Zimmermans
in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me
Yoko and me
And that's reality
The dream is over
What
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