Call It Art

Well, here we go again, another day
I take out my guitar and start to play
I tell myself, "I'm gonna write a song"
But everything I've written comes out wrong

The words, they used to come so easily
Back when everything was new to me
But lately I can't seem to find the time
And when I do, I barely find the rhymes

I threw a bunch of lyrics on the floor
I posted poetry up on the wall
I published pointless gibberish I said came from my heart
I put it in a frame and callеd it art

An empty canvas withers all alone
A brush with grеatness that may never come
It must be something broken in my brain
Or 15 minutes, sinking down the drain

I say creative passion is my life
But I succumb to any kind of vice
I may have finally numbed the pain
And made more than the voices go away

I splattered pastel colors on some glass
I made pretentious garbage out of trash
I drew a big postmodern purple circle in the dark
I charged a price and then I called it art

There's too many distractions in my mind
It's making inspiration hard to find
I'll try and place the blame on someone else
But I put all the pressure on myself

They tell me I'm an artist, here's the truth:
I use the title more like an excuse
But then again, I guess I did create
A fake who throws away more than he makes

I might die broken, lonely, and unknown
You'll finally recognize me when I'm gone
When everything I worked for fades away and falls apart
I'll paint my masterpiece and call it art
I'll paint my masterpiece and call it art