Last Brushstroke

The brush is worn,

the paint is fresh,

the letters flow with grace

I've painted signs for fifty years on this town's dusty face

The hardware store is closing down,

the sign will be the last

I'll paint it with the old-style flair,

a message from the past

I'm the sign painter's last brushstroke,

the letters bold and clean

I'll paint the name in gold and red,

the finest I have seen

The digital age is here to stay,

but my hand will remain

In every curve and every line,

in sun and in the rain (ahhhh)

I've painted for the barber shops,

the diners and the stores

I've painted for the theater,

the church with open doors

Each sign was a story,

a welcome and a name

And now I'm painting the final one,

it's never quite the same

The owner watches me from the door,

his eyes are getting wet

He knows this sign is history,

the best one I have set

I sign my name upon the bottom,

a small and quiet thing

And I walk away from my last sign,

no need for anything

(hm-mmm) I'm the sign painter's last brushstroke,

the letters bold and clean

I'll paint the name in gold and red,

the finest I have seen

The digital age is here to stay,

but my hand will remain

In every curve and every line,

in sun and in the rain

In sun and in the rain