A picture tells a thousand tales
One gaze on his muse with brush in hand and he knew
A beauty like no other he had to pursue
A beauty that will never fade or decay
To keep the essence of youth for ever and a day
The portrait revealed every sin, hedonism beguiled him
He wished in that moment he would remain the same
For nothing more than his soul he would exchange
Oh Mr Gray
Your looks they never fade
If on the picture you would gaze
You would meet your maker; at the end of your days
At the end of your days, at the end of your
In the blink of an eye and the passing of time
The wish unbeknownst had been granted
Poor Sybil, she just wanted to be loved and adored
But Dorian's vanity would have no reward
His cruelty was reflected in the image on the wall
So hidden now it must be til that plaintive call
The pursuit of a sensual pleasure against all moral code
Will only end in tragedy, like the stories of old
Oh Mr Gray
Your looks they never fade
If on the picture you would gaze
You would meet your maker; at the end of your days
At the end of your days, at the end of your days