It's a crumbling picture
Of advertised land
That builds me my profits
And raise my demand
Artistic, and left field, a quivering wreck
You put my opinions so firmly in place
The paintings are drying
The colour's all wrong
We need to find something to hang on the wall
It's the bravest decision
That anyone made
And why in the hell do we all feel so afraid
Of it
Well the poets came dressed up in fashionable clothes
Abandoned their morals by selling their souls
And art now survived on a sponsorship fund
And it shockingly states that we all wanted some
But it's hard to believe that the public have eyes
Without a celebrity stood by your side
We're climbing the walls now
Attacking the gates
These words are our weapons
These pictures that we're gonna paint
For you
But I don't want to see it unless it's for free
Confused about whether I want or I need
It won't take a lifetime
It might take a while
But she's going down in style