| Song | Portrait In Black Velvet |
| Artist | Danny O'Keefe |
| Album | Breezy Stories |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : OKeefe | |
| O'Keefe | |
| Come with me now into a piece of velvet | |
| And a plastic painter's daring dance of death | |
| We'll journey very far into the surface | |
| Those not used to diving hold your breath | |
| The lady of my dreams paints scars of velvet | |
| On the mirror are the words she chose to speak | |
| And there the heavy hands that hang suspended | |
| Wrote: The Easter undertaker's laughter breaks | |
| Painter, she cried, it's mourning | |
| She stared like a saint undone | |
| Painter, she cried, it's morning | |
| And we cannot find the sun | |
| I offered her my cap and tiny shovel | |
| Saying, surely this will hide you from the sun | |
| I obtained it from a banker in depression | |
| He was a memory from 1931 | |
| She butchers up her meat in careful quarters | |
| Knowing the prize at stake is very high | |
| And she builds a worn cliché into climax | |
| Knowing she will barely get by | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn't free, it's not for sale | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| And let me go on with the telling of my tale | |
| Her gentle voice cried quietly to thank me | |
| It's nothing, the hollow answer said | |
| I let her ride the railroad line to Nowhere | |
| And left the lost survivor on her bed | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn't free, it held my life | |
| The portrait ends in a scream | |
| Two hearts held together with a knife |
| zuo qu : OKeefe | |
| O' Keefe | |
| Come with me now into a piece of velvet | |
| And a plastic painter' s daring dance of death | |
| We' ll journey very far into the surface | |
| Those not used to diving hold your breath | |
| The lady of my dreams paints scars of velvet | |
| On the mirror are the words she chose to speak | |
| And there the heavy hands that hang suspended | |
| Wrote: The Easter undertaker' s laughter breaks | |
| Painter, she cried, it' s mourning | |
| She stared like a saint undone | |
| Painter, she cried, it' s morning | |
| And we cannot find the sun | |
| I offered her my cap and tiny shovel | |
| Saying, surely this will hide you from the sun | |
| I obtained it from a banker in depression | |
| He was a memory from 1931 | |
| She butchers up her meat in careful quarters | |
| Knowing the prize at stake is very high | |
| And she builds a worn cliche into climax | |
| Knowing she will barely get by | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn' t free, it' s not for sale | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| And let me go on with the telling of my tale | |
| Her gentle voice cried quietly to thank me | |
| It' s nothing, the hollow answer said | |
| I let her ride the railroad line to Nowhere | |
| And left the lost survivor on her bed | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn' t free, it held my life | |
| The portrait ends in a scream | |
| Two hearts held together with a knife |
| zuò qǔ : OKeefe | |
| O' Keefe | |
| Come with me now into a piece of velvet | |
| And a plastic painter' s daring dance of death | |
| We' ll journey very far into the surface | |
| Those not used to diving hold your breath | |
| The lady of my dreams paints scars of velvet | |
| On the mirror are the words she chose to speak | |
| And there the heavy hands that hang suspended | |
| Wrote: The Easter undertaker' s laughter breaks | |
| Painter, she cried, it' s mourning | |
| She stared like a saint undone | |
| Painter, she cried, it' s morning | |
| And we cannot find the sun | |
| I offered her my cap and tiny shovel | |
| Saying, surely this will hide you from the sun | |
| I obtained it from a banker in depression | |
| He was a memory from 1931 | |
| She butchers up her meat in careful quarters | |
| Knowing the prize at stake is very high | |
| And she builds a worn cliché into climax | |
| Knowing she will barely get by | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn' t free, it' s not for sale | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| And let me go on with the telling of my tale | |
| Her gentle voice cried quietly to thank me | |
| It' s nothing, the hollow answer said | |
| I let her ride the railroad line to Nowhere | |
| And left the lost survivor on her bed | |
| Lady, return my dream | |
| It wasn' t free, it held my life | |
| The portrait ends in a scream | |
| Two hearts held together with a knife |