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I’m Wearing the Clothes I Found on Your Throne
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Beans On Toast
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It's a crumbling picture Of advertised land That builds me my profits And raise my demand Artistic, and left field, a quivering wreck You put my opinions so firmly in place The paintings are drying The colour's all wrong We need to find something to hang on the wall It's the bravest decision That anyone made And why in the hell do we all feel so afraid Of it Well the poets came dressed up in fashionable clothes Abandoned their morals by selling their souls And art now survived on a sponsorship fund And it shockingly states that we all wanted some But it's hard to believe that the public have eyes Without a celebrity stood by your side We're climbing the walls now Attacking the gates These words are our weapons These pictures that we're gonna paint For you But I don't want to see it unless it's for free Confused about whether I want or I need It won't take a lifetime It might take a while But she's going down in style
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