Art Is Dead

Art is dead

Art is dead

Art is dead

Art is dead

Entertainers like to seem complicated

But we're not complicated

I can explain it pretty easily

Have you ever been to a birthday party for children

And one of the children won't stop screaming

'Cuz he's just a little attention attractor

When he grows up to be a comic or actor

He'll be rewarded for never maturing

For never understanding or learning

That every day can't be about him

There's other people, you selfish asshole!

I must be psychotic

I must be demented

To think that I'm worthy of all this attention

Of all of this money you worked really hard for

I slept in late while you worked at the drug store

My drug's attention

I am addict

But I get paid to indulge in my habit

It's all an illusion

I'm wearing make up

I'm wearing make up

Make up

Make up

Art is dead

Some people think you're funny

How do we get those people's money?

I said, art is dead

We're rolling in dough while Carlin rolls in his grave

His grave

His grave

This show has got a budget

This show has got a budget

And all the poor people way more deserving

Of the money won't budge it

Cause I wanted my name in lights

When I could have fed a family of four

For forty fucking fortnights

Forty fucking fortnights!

I am an artist

Please, God, forgive me

I am an artist

Please, don't revere me

I am an artist

Please, don't respect me

I am an artist

You're free to correct me

A self-centered artist

Self-obsessed artist

I am an artist

I am an artist

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