Lyrics by Roger Coghill


Poets , pimps, and politicians

Mistresses, monarchs, and dames,

All glowing in oil upon canvas,

Look down at the world from their frames.

With long deceased eyes still aglowing

And emotions still etched into place,

These gallery portraits all tell me

Their life story caught on each face.


Faces, faces, faces,

All human life is there,

The only face I cannot see

Is yours, for you’re not there.


Down the long hall a cloaked  figure

Turns my head as the lady comes near.

And I recognize that familiar look

As  finally you’re here.


Faces, Faces, Faces

I see that loving gaze

And know that I will see your face

For all my livelong days.

We’re  painted on board in acrylic

We’re frozen in time and in space

You and I will not ever grow old now,

And time will not ravage your grace.

We’re both framed in a gilded enclosure,

Hung aloft looking down from the wall,

For ever surveying  the faces

On eternity’s gallery wall.

Faces, faces, faces,

All human life is there

We are caught in the frame of the Artist

The paintings of life everywhere.

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