Bleed for the Artist

Ninety-nine rooms in the Pharaoh's tombs

He was 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

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 that poison dart

You never disrespect

The artist or his art

It's such a tender heart

The one that creates the art

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

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 little Sartre

You never deselect

The artist or his art

It's such a wild heart

The one that bleeds the art

Descend these scales of hollow chorus dressed girls of angels on my heart

Statues of males and Christs adorn, but begs the question "Is this art?"

Hey, bleed for the artist

He only goes the hardest way

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 Super Mart

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

Goo, goo, goo, goo, goo, goo

I thought...is that the end of the song?