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 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 an addict
But I get paid to indulge in my habits
It's all an illusion
I'm wearing makeup
I'm wearing makeup
Makeup, makeup
Makeuuuup

Art is dead
So, people think you're funny
How do we get those people's money?
Art is dead
We're rolling in dough while Carlin rolls in his grave

Said the show has got a budget
The show has got a budget
And all of the poor people way more deserving
Of the money won't budge it
'Cause I wanted my name in lights
Well, 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
Feel free to correct me

I am an artist
A self-centered 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
But maybe I'll grow out of it