Bristles And Whiskers

He doesn't price his paintings

Before the canvas dries

His life is living colors like the ones in the sky

On the fourth of July

You can keep the closet door cracked

Look outside, and dodge accusing eyes

And be yourself for the first time

Bristles and whiskers and a broad jawline are the prize

Enjoy it now, because at sunrise

Your friends and family think

You're a pervert contaminating their lives

He hides his dirty movies, he kisses his wife

She has a suspicion of his filthy desire

They don't make love they fuck

And he assumes it's enough

They both pretend to come with a common image

Of another man filling them with love

He lives his life shaving

The whiskers that prickle his wife

She's sitting in a pew praying to a father

He better purge that closet before the canvas dries