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letra de impressionist - alex touzet

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[verse 1]
seurat and signac all around
i’m taking notes, i’ve got it written down
the lake is blue, the trees have grown, the sails are white
and yet, there’s no end in sight

[pre-chorus]
and i’m trying, but is it art
when i rip the page apart?

[chorus]
my portrait’s in a frame somewhere in paris
meanwhile, the rest of me is here, and i’m alone
dreaming of van gogh’s moon
or at least a sunday afternoon
[verse 2]
i filled la grande jatte too quick
drinking it back up, i keep making myself sick
all this pointillism, but still no plot
i just keep digging in my pen until i blot

[pre-chorus]
i repeat under my breath that what is soon is what is now
but i still see seurat and signac ’round

[chorus]
my portrait’s in a frame somewhere in paris
meanwhile, the rest of me is here, and i’m alone
still wishing for van gogh’s moon
but i’m okay with just a sunday afternoon

[bridge]
i’ll never be a star if i’m there
standing still, unaware
but it’s better than a life without art
where i rip myself apart

[chorus]
while my portrait’s in a frame somewhere in paris
the rest of me is here, and i’m alone

- alex touzet

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