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Verse 1:
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Art is dead, art is dead
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Art is dead, art is dead
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Entertainers like to seem complicated, but we're not complicated
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I can explain it pretty easily: have you ever been to a
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Birthday party for children? and one of the children won't stop screaming
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Cause he's just a little attention attractor and when he grows up to be a comic or actor,
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He'll be rewarded for never maturing for never understanding or learning
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That every day can't be about him there's other people you selfish asshole!
Verse 2:
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I must be psychotic, I must be demented, to think that I'm worthy of all this attention,
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Of all of this money you worked really hard for, I slept in late while you worked at the drug store
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My drug's attention, I Am an addict, but I get paid to indulge in my habit
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It's all an illusion, I'm wearing make-up, I'm wearing make-up, make-up, make-up, make-up
Verse 3:
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Art is dead, so people think you're funny, how Do you get those people's money?
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Art is dead, we're rolling in dough while Carlin rolls in his
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Grave, in his grave, in his grave....
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This show has got a budget, the show has got a budget
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And all the poor people way more deserving of the money won't budge it
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Cause I wanted my name in lights. when I could have fed a family of four
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For forty fucking fortnights, forty fucking fortnights!
Verse 4:
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I Am an artist, please god forgive me, I Am an artist, please don't revere me
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I Am an artist, please don't respect me, I Am an artist, feel free to correct me
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A self-centered artist, self-obsessed artist, I Am an artist, I Am an artist!
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But I'm just a kid, I'm just a kid, I'm just a kid, kid, and maybe I'll grow out of it....
(abrupt end)