It's Abbey Road...that's Blue Jay Way...She's P...

When the world's last picture is painted
and the tubes are all twisted and dry.
When the oldest color has faded
and the youngest critic has died.
We'll rest for we'll need it,
we'll lay down for an ion or two.
Till the Master of all good work men
has put us to work a new.
We'll have from all the Saints to draw,
Like Magdella, Peter and Paul.
No one will work for money.
No one will work for fame,
For only time can praise us.
Because only time will blame!
Each in the joy of doing,
each on his on separate star.
Will paint it as he sees it.
for the God of things as they are.
Each for the love of his art,
will paint it straight from the heart.
Night Watch by Rembrandt,
Still Life by Cezanne
Sunflowers by Van Gogh,
Yellow Christ by Gauguin
The Ballerina's of Degas,
the living color of Renoir
They'd paint what they saw,
From life's canvas they'd draw.
The Painters of Light, the Painters of Life.

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