There's something there in Williamson's Garage
I think it's me trying to start a fire
With autumn leaves and gasoline
The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves
It's only a painting
But not too pretty a picture
Into my home, a real native boy
Full-blooded brave, a kind of show 'n tell
I showed him off to my Great-Aunt
He told me off to my white face
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
There it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Murder of crows gathered on the power lines
Murdering crows, The Blue Max will be mine
To bring them down I take my aim
Then I reload and shoot again
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
And there it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
Spirit Of The West - Williamson's Garage Lyrics
Spirit Of The West - Williamson's Garage Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
There's something there in Williamson's Garage
I think it's me trying to start a fire
With autumn leaves and gasoline
The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves
It's only a painting
But not too pretty a picture
Into my home, a real native boy
Full-blooded brave, a kind of show 'n tell
I showed him off to my Great-Aunt
He told me off to my white face
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
There it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Murder of crows gathered on the power lines
Murdering crows, The Blue Max will be mine
To bring them down I take my aim
Then I reload and shoot again
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
And there it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
I think it's me trying to start a fire
With autumn leaves and gasoline
The flames leapt up to bite my sleeves
It's only a painting
But not too pretty a picture
Into my home, a real native boy
Full-blooded brave, a kind of show 'n tell
I showed him off to my Great-Aunt
He told me off to my white face
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
There it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Murder of crows gathered on the power lines
Murdering crows, The Blue Max will be mine
To bring them down I take my aim
Then I reload and shoot again
It's only a painting
But not to pretty a picture
And there it hangs on the wall
A thousand words I know them all
The frozen bird, a hockey puck
Shed tears, move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
Move on to Van Gogh
Writer: GEOFFREY KELLY, HUGH RICHARD CAMPBELL MCMILLAN, JOHN FRASER MANN, LINDA MCRAE, LINDA MAE HUMPHRIES, VINCE RICHARD DITRICH
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.