One day I went to work, told em I had had enough
I was born to be an artist I was meant for paint and brush
So I sold all I owned, what I didn’t sell I burned
And I moved in with my parents, bought supplies with what I’d earned
And now all I got to show for these empty cans of paint
Is a portrait of my mother, a suburban landscape
All the people that I met, all the time that I spent
Was a poor man’s fortune but it didn’t pay the rent
I made it one whole year
Think it went pretty well but I’ll tell you in a minute it was shorter than it felt
The nurse called my name and I hobbled to my feet
And the test results were good enough to let em set me free
Now they’re tearing off my casts and I’m trying to recall
How to walk and how to dance and how it feels when I fall
I pleaded with the judge and I cried to the jury
But my lawyer says it’s over and I really shouldn’t worry
I thought I’d get off clean but they heard my past was checkered
Don’t they know a man is more than what’s recorded on the record
So they hauled me off in chains and they showed me to my cell
It’s a place that never rains it’s a steel umbrella