Bleed For The Artist [2011, Heartbeats and Brainwaves]
Ninety-nine rooms in the Pharaoh's tombs, He was a young and hungry king, He spent a lot of time in his room, staring at the moon, And he loved to hear the young girls sing, Remember, as you bleed for the artist, He only goes the hardest way, (ah-aah!) And as you plead for him to start this, You live to hear the artist to say: "I love you!” So let the criticism start, And blow the poison dart, You never disrespect (disrespect) The artist or his art, It's such a tender heart, The one that creates the art
There
Sixty-nine dudes just to get you in the mood, I got some issues with your style, girl, If my desires do intrude this pleasant interlude, I'll probably stay here a little while, girl, And now you bleed for the artist, Though it might not be the smartest play, (ah-aah!) And as you try to tear apart this, You live to hear the artist say: "I love you!” So let the nihilism start, And read a lil’ de Sade, You never deselect The artist or his art, It's such a wild heart, The one that bleeds the art
Descending scales of hollow cores, frescoes of angels on my heart, Statues of males and Christ adorn, quite paints the question "Is this art?”
Hey! Bleed for the artist, He only goes the hardest way, (ah-aah!) And as you plead for him to start this, You live to hear the artist say: "That's right!” So throw your items in the cart And burn the supermart, You can never separate The artist from the art, What finally stopped my heart? Where to start? Where to start? Where to start?
We are the young and hungry patrons of the arts, We are the young and hungry patrons of the arts, What finally stopped my heart? What finally stopped my heart?