When the sky is dark ,the painter returns where he rests Fueled by bourbon, anger and stress Truly a foul stench that he dress He tumbles through the halls hoping to find his canvas Bottled emotions he cannot swallow He wishes to find his outlet He only seeks his canvas And his canvas awaits in fear and sorrow He finds his canvas in a shivering state And the painter paints and paints Paints her black and blue Despite being intoxicated he moves free and eloquently Like and experienced painter Indeed he is