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Cut it out Your self-inflicted pain It's getting too routine The crowds are catching on To the self-inflicted song Well, here we go again The art of acting weak Fall in love to fail To boost your cd sales And that cd sells Yeah, what a hit You've got to repeat You gotta' sink to swim If at first you don't, you don't succeed You gotta recreate your misery 'Cause we all know art is hard Young artists have gotta starve Try, and fail, and try again The comforts of repetition Keep churning out those hits 'Til it's all the same old shit Oh, a second verse! Well, color me fatigued I'm hiding in the leaves In the cd jacket sleeves Tired of entertianing Some double-dipped meaning A soft serve analogy This drunken angry slur In thirty-one flavors You gotta' sink, gotta' sink, gotta' sink to swim Immerse yourself in rejection Regurgitate some sorry tale About a boy who sells his love affairs You gotta' fake(fake!), fake(fake!), fake the pain You better make(make!), make(make!), make it sting You're gonna' break(break!), break(break!), break a leg When you get on stage And they scream your name "Oh, cursive is so cool!" You gotta' sink, gotta' sink, gotta' sink to swim Impersonate greater persons 'Cause we all know art is hard When we don't know who we are