Words and music: Lou Reed & John Cale
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The trouble with a classicist he looks at a tree
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That's all he sees, he paints a tree
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The trouble with a classicist he looks at the sky
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He doesn't ask why, he just paints a sky
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The trouble with an impressionist, he looks at a log
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And he doesn't know who he is, standing, staring, at this log
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And surrealist memories are too amorphous and proud
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While those downtown macho painters are just alcoholic
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The trouble with impressionist is
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The trouble with impressionist is
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The trouble with personalities, they're too wrapped up in style
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It's too personal, they're in love with their own guile
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They're like illegal aliens trying to make a buck
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They're driving gypsy cabs but they're thinking like a truck
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The trouble with personalities is
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The trouble with personalities is
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I like the druggy downtown kids who spray paint walls and trains
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I like their lack of training, their primitive technique
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I think sometimes it hurts you when you stay too long in school
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I think sometimes it hurts you when you're afraid to be called a fool
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The trouble with classicists is
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The trouble with classicists is
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Trouble With Classicists
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| John Cale |
