When I Paint My Masterpiece

You were no match for The Madonna

Though there was a time your halo shone

And while we made a pretty picture 

You didn’t hang around for long

I guess it’s all down to perspective

To brush strokes, palette knives, and paint

To where the light appears from

And to the patience of a saint

A First Communion celebrated

The adoration of the ice-cream lamb

The Jesus Of Cool and his little brother

Half a boy and half a man

The Sorrow of Belgium

Christ’s Entry Into Brussels

A last supper of Trappist Ales

Frietjes, mayonnaise, and mussels

When I paint my masterpiece

It will not be in Bruges or Ghent

Though the sketches made of you there

Were among the best times that I spent

You were no match for the Madonna

Though there was never one so fair

All the same it seems a crying shame

That when you become immortal, you will be elsewhere