Lou Reed Trouble With Classicists song lyrics

The trouble with a classicist, he looks at a tree

That's all he sees, he paints a tree

The trouble with a classicist, he looks at the sky

He doesn't ask why, he just paints a sky

The trouble with an impressionist, he looks at a log

He doesn't 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

There's a trouble with impressionist

There's a trouble with impressionist

There's a trouble with impressionist

The trouble with personalities, they're too wrapped up in style

It's too personal, they're in love with their own guile

They're like illegal aliens, trying to make a buck

They're driving gypsy cabs, but they're thinking like a truck

There's a trouble with personalities

There's a trouble with personalities

There's a trouble with personalities

There's a trouble with personalities

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 you're afraid to be called a fool

There's a trouble with classicists

There's a trouble with classicists

There's a trouble with classicists

There's a trouble with classicists