Trouble With Classicists — текст песни (John Cale)

Words and music: lou reed & john cale



The trouble with a classicist he looks at a tree

Thats all he sees, he paints a tree

The trouble with a classicist he looks at the sky

He doesnt ask why, he just paints a sky



The trouble with an impressionist, he looks at a log

And he doesnt know who he is, standing, staring, at this log

And surrealist memories are too amorphous and proud

While those downtown macho painters are just alcoholic

The trouble with impressionist is

The trouble with impressionist is



The trouble with personalities, theyre too wrapped up in style

Its too personal, theyre in love with their own guile

Theyre like illegal aliens trying to make a buck

Theyre driving gypsy cabs but theyre thinking like a truck

The trouble with personalities is

The trouble with personalities is



I like the druggy downtown kids who spray paint walls and trains

I like their lack of training, their primitive technique

I think sometimes it hurts you when you stay too long in school

I think sometimes it hurts you when youre afraid to be called a fool

The trouble with classicists is

The trouble with classicists is