Lyrics Painter of Women - The Beau Brummels
Seventeen
lanterns
are
burning
tonight
Isn't
he
a
sight?
Sitting
alone
on
his
plush
Persian
rug
In
the
blackest
night
With
his
fancies
in-flight
All
his
colors
are
bright
And
the
canvas
is
white
of
The
painter
of
women
Yes,
the
canvas
is
white
of
The
painter
of
women
Stooped
at
his
easel
His
brushes
in
hand
He
is
in
demand
Everyone's
heard
how
The
sight
in
his
fingers
Will
guide
his
hand
He
is
known
through
the
land
As
the
blind
gentle
man
Yes,
he's
the
blind
gentle
man
who's
The
painter
of
women
Ya,
he's
the
blind
gentle
man
who's
The
painter
of
women
Painting
the
faces
Where
no
faces
are
They
are
bizarre
and
Lovely
to
see
Selling
to
emperors
Kings
and
queens
Each
of
his
dreams
Each
of
his
dreams
He
is
always
around
With
his
love
to
be
found
And
all
the
people
surround
him
The
painter
of
women
I
see
the
people
surround
him
The
painter
of
women
All
the
people
surround
him
The
painter
of
women
![The Beau Brummels - Triangle](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/f/t/p/w/mpNomOwpTf.jpg)
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