BO BURNHΛM - ΛRT IS DΞΛD | Текст песни

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• BO BURNHΛM
• ΛRT IS DΞΛD

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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
'Cause 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 under-
Standing 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 an 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,
Make-up,
Make...

Art is dead,
So, people think you're funny, how do you get those peoples money?
Said, art is dead,
We're rolling in dough, while Carlin rolls in his grave.
His grave.
His grave.

The show has got a budget.
The 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 feed 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.