Lyrics:
You can trace the mystery of ancient history
Through art of artists and their models
You can comb through the Rome coliseum
And the rear
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song and then
She comes in colors everywhere
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She
She comes in colors everywhere
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She comes
The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long we sang a song and then
suddenly striped
His hair blondish and poetic
He is less than vinyl perfect
His foot is a precise anchor for the husk and vibrance of his voice
He is
suddenly striped
His hair blondish and poetic
He is less than vinyl perfect
His foot is a precise anchor for the husk and vibrance of his voice
He is
the North Strand
And on, and towards the sea
He said he was an artist
But he really painted billboards
In large capital letters
Large capital letters
She comes in colors everywhere
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She comes
The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long we sang a song and then we
The summer wind, came blowin' in from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song and then
Lend me your comb
It's time to go home
I got to go past
My hair is a mess
Your mammie will scold
Your pappie will shout
Unless we come in
tell you about her for you ought to know
You comb her hair every mornin'
And make sure she dresses just right
You comb her hair every mornin'
you about her, for you ought to know
You comb her hair every mornin'
And make sure she's dressed just right
You comb her hair every mornin'
tell you about her for you ought to know
You comb her hair every mornin'
And make sure she dresses just right
You comb her hair every mornin'
I saw you in the mirror
You were wearing your hair differently
Carrying the air differently
You said you wear your hair long parted in the middle
Hey, little girl, comb your hair, fix your make-up
Soon he will open the door
Don't think because there's a ring on your finger
You needn't try
a hummingbird lost in the morning
And caresses the south wind and silently sails to the sea
Ah, the sculptor stands stricken and the artist he throws away his
and salute him when his birthday comes
For Halloween, buy him a trumpet and for Christmas, buy him a gun
He's got everything he needs, he's an artist
now they see
That the artist had a vision
That the wind could set us free
It's a bridge until tomarrow
Taking us beyond the sun
As the artist
values
When you associate with secular artists in the R&B hip-hop world
Here he comes
I cannot believe the controversy shrowding this man
Mr.
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