Pop Art Bop by bn-zn Lyrics
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art Bop
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop
I'm gonna get a Campbell's soup can
A big old canvas and an easel stand
Do its portrait in plastic paint
Soup can art... what vision! How quaint
Snap your fingers, make it clean
Like a robot dance machine
Chacha-cha, 2-3-4
More is less, but less is more
I don't think a rock band should
Know how to play instruments
It's old fashioned and besides
I can't relate to it politically
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop!
See a junkie that's a rockin' star
Paint his picture by a 50's car
When he dies young they'll call him a saint
Then sell his soul on a photo plate
Punch left, right, circle round
Listen up, shimmy down
Point to heaven, point to hell
Stomp on the devil, now do it well
Wo wo-oh wo wo-oh wo
Pop Art
Wo wo-oh wo wo-oh wo
Pop Art
Hi. I'm looking for the audition
You play reeds man?
No, I don't read man
Oh, you a reed man
That's right, that's right, Don Reid
Donna Reed?
Yeah. I'd love to learn!
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop!
Pain makes art that's what you think
I've suffered, huh! I've been-on-the-brink
Pain makes shit, that's what I say
Romantic notions, they made me pay
Step forward, side, touch his face
Kisses on a private place
Take a trip around the world
Get your shots first, do it girl!
What you put out will come back round
A heavy circle but very sound
Time goes forward but your mind looks back
The art of living's an elusive knack
Step forward, back through the doors
The pentacle's on the disco floor
Take your partner's waist in your hands
Rock it nasty like a stone age man!
Say what?
Say OM!
Say what?
Say OM!
Oh, Pop Art
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art
Start, stop, hop to the Pop Art Bop
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop
I'm gonna get a Campbell's soup can
A big old canvas and an easel stand
Do its portrait in plastic paint
Soup can art... what vision! How quaint
Snap your fingers, make it clean
Like a robot dance machine
Chacha-cha, 2-3-4
More is less, but less is more
I don't think a rock band should
Know how to play instruments
It's old fashioned and besides
I can't relate to it politically
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop!
See a junkie that's a rockin' star
Paint his picture by a 50's car
When he dies young they'll call him a saint
Then sell his soul on a photo plate
Punch left, right, circle round
Listen up, shimmy down
Point to heaven, point to hell
Stomp on the devil, now do it well
Wo wo-oh wo wo-oh wo
Pop Art
Wo wo-oh wo wo-oh wo
Pop Art
Hi. I'm looking for the audition
You play reeds man?
No, I don't read man
Oh, you a reed man
That's right, that's right, Don Reid
Donna Reed?
Yeah. I'd love to learn!
Pop Art, Pop Art Bop!
Pain makes art that's what you think
I've suffered, huh! I've been-on-the-brink
Pain makes shit, that's what I say
Romantic notions, they made me pay
Step forward, side, touch his face
Kisses on a private place
Take a trip around the world
Get your shots first, do it girl!
What you put out will come back round
A heavy circle but very sound
Time goes forward but your mind looks back
The art of living's an elusive knack
Step forward, back through the doors
The pentacle's on the disco floor
Take your partner's waist in your hands
Rock it nasty like a stone age man!
Say what?
Say OM!
Say what?
Say OM!
Oh, Pop Art