Illustrations by Plow United Lyrics
I'm not proud of what I’ve done
I took something that did not belong to me
I cut out the heart and the dangerous parts
And made it just real enough for a catalog
I cut out the heart and the scary parts
Is it art?
Okay let's talk about art school
To tell the truth
It was harder for me than it was for you
The boys didn't realize how easy they had it
With their comic books
And their welding equipment
The walls would sweat
And the floor would shake
I’ll never forget those basements
But even back then there was something wrong
I could never shake the feeling
That I didn't belong
As the rich kids studied how to look the part
Is it art?
So I found myself working for an agency
That it was interested in buying credibility
And the boys didn't realize
How easy they had it
With their unwritten rules of conduct
You were only as good as your last idea
So I thought back to this one
It was elegant and ugly and perfectly wrong
Like Edward Gorey meets Pettibon
But it turned out the kid who came up with it
Was homeless on the streets of Indianapolis
Of course he didn't know shit about copyright
Or mechanical licensing
I was sitting at my desk when the story hit
About a corporate designer
Who stole art from kids
The whole uproar made me feel like shit
I was the most hated bitch on the internet
And the whole fucking thing
Tore my world apart
Is it art?
Two years later I was living alone
I had an address from a band
For a basement show
For the sake of old times
I drank a bottle of win
While I was sitting in my car
With my boots laced up
And my courage screwed up
I walked through the front door
I was prepared for them to all hate me
But it was worse - they didn't even know me
Because the moment I'd cashed in my relevance
Was the moment I'd outlived my usefulness
The game had moved on, I had done my part
Just another bit player
Just another false start
They cut out my heart and my dangerous parts
Is it art?
I took something that did not belong to me
I cut out the heart and the dangerous parts
And made it just real enough for a catalog
I cut out the heart and the scary parts
Is it art?
Okay let's talk about art school
To tell the truth
It was harder for me than it was for you
The boys didn't realize how easy they had it
With their comic books
And their welding equipment
The walls would sweat
And the floor would shake
I’ll never forget those basements
But even back then there was something wrong
I could never shake the feeling
That I didn't belong
As the rich kids studied how to look the part
Is it art?
So I found myself working for an agency
That it was interested in buying credibility
And the boys didn't realize
How easy they had it
With their unwritten rules of conduct
You were only as good as your last idea
So I thought back to this one
It was elegant and ugly and perfectly wrong
Like Edward Gorey meets Pettibon
But it turned out the kid who came up with it
Was homeless on the streets of Indianapolis
Of course he didn't know shit about copyright
Or mechanical licensing
I was sitting at my desk when the story hit
About a corporate designer
Who stole art from kids
The whole uproar made me feel like shit
I was the most hated bitch on the internet
And the whole fucking thing
Tore my world apart
Is it art?
Two years later I was living alone
I had an address from a band
For a basement show
For the sake of old times
I drank a bottle of win
While I was sitting in my car
With my boots laced up
And my courage screwed up
I walked through the front door
I was prepared for them to all hate me
But it was worse - they didn't even know me
Because the moment I'd cashed in my relevance
Was the moment I'd outlived my usefulness
The game had moved on, I had done my part
Just another bit player
Just another false start
They cut out my heart and my dangerous parts
Is it art?