Gerhard Richter sings the blues as he scrapes the canvass dry.
He hums a gentle instrumental and pushes blinds aside
The scratches sign a violent path, a deliberate mar of beauty
But Gerhard so serene he seems, those canvas scars his duty.
We can’t just simply see the fair, the conventions are too narrow
Instead adjust to love disgust, there’s wisdom in the harrow
Sing on Gerhard sing aloud, bring new light to our eyes
For though the brightness causes pain, it guides us to surprise
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