Текст (слова) песни: Marty Willson-Piper - Art On The Run
The cane on the table is getting lighter, it`s almost disappeared I always thought that furniture was weird Rooms full of battered wood, I`d live in empty rooms if I could The shape of my face is well-defined, improving with age All I need now is something to engage Grinning at images, I`ll only talk to you if you appeal Braving the elements Childlike and delicate Art is on the run, Art is on the run The blood on the ticket is the same as the blood on the fingers at my throat I`ll prove it was you by the paintings on your coat Seams split in violent times, art is on the run and drunk again on wine I`m safe and sound, I`m full of money, a silver sixpence shines Somewhere else a beach is sad and cries Sand swept to damaged hills, another empty canvas I`ve to fill Close to you and far away
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