Who needs one more tortured artist
|
Whingeing about the pain
|
Of being a creative genius
|
And the heavy burden of fame?
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O! The struggles they have nightly
|
Let's them understand completely
|
The tragedy of Brett Whitely -
|
Shame they're more like Glenn Wheatly.
|
Here's an exhausted actor
|
Complaining about the shoot -
|
When we're all shovelling guano
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For half the fucking loot -
|
And the life of top fashion models
|
Isn't all parties and glamour;
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But it ain't so fucking great either
|
Working with a chisel and hammer.
|
Come, everybody, let's get together
|
And shout, "Well, hip hip hooray"
|
'Cos Sebastian the theatre director
|
Just put in another creatively draining day.
|
And, fuck me, let's fall over backwards
|
'Cos some snivelling rock star jerk
|
Calls snorting cocaine in a studio
|
The same thing that we all call "work".
|
Fuck 'em - fuck 'em, the lot of 'em -
|
You know, there's a harder job
|
Than being a creative genius -
|
It's being your garden style slob.
|
And going to work every morning;
|
And catching that peak hour train -
|
Two hours pushing a wheel barrow
|
Hurts more than metaphysical pain.
|
You want to understand Kafka
|
And his tortured soul, never at rest?
|
Forget about reading his novels -
|
Get a job like him: behind a desk.
|
Artists are beyond good and evil;
|
For them, morality is just crud -
|
There's a bouncer who thinks the same thing
|
When he's bashing heads down at the pub.
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So put down those paints and brushes;
|
Give up your creative fight -
|
Die totally anonymous,
|
And teach your kids to be polite.
|
|
-----------------
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Fuck ĄŻEm Fuck ĄŻEm - The Lot Of ĄŻEm
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| TISM |
