Art Is Dead Lyrics - Words Words Words - Bo Burnham

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 habit 

It's all an illusion, I'm wearing make-up 

I'm wearing make-up, make-up, make-up, make-up 

Art is dead, so people think you're funny 

How do you get those people's money? 

I said, art is dead, we're rolling in dough 

While Carlin rolls in his grave, in his grave, in his grave 

Cause this show has got a budget 

The show has got a budget 

And all the poor people way more deserving of the money won't budget 

Cause I wanted my name in lights 

When 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 

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, kid 

And maybe I'll grow out of it