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Clasically Trained Lyrics
Make a hook with your finger
That's a problem I know nothing about
Making art for a living
That's a subject I know nothing about
Come on
well come on
You've been classically trained
In sculpture and paint
Call it some kind of potential
You are a scholar with nothing to say
Hands are gripped around your black pen
You're a champion with no follow-through
You've been classically trained
In sculpture and paint
You were born to create
Such a wondrous state
Calling out for attention
That's a photograph I don't want to take
Call it some kind of disaster
You are a spokesman with nothing to say
Challenged ch-ch-ch-challenged (x4)
Making art for a living
That's a subject I know nothing about
That's a problem I know nothing about
Making art for a living
That's a subject I know nothing about
well come on
In sculpture and paint
You are a scholar with nothing to say
Hands are gripped around your black pen
You're a champion with no follow-through
In sculpture and paint
You were born to create
Such a wondrous state
That's a photograph I don't want to take
Call it some kind of disaster
You are a spokesman with nothing to say
That's a subject I know nothing about
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I think it's a song from the point of view of a musician who is defending themselves against a "fine artist" who doesn't think they truly know the challenges associated with making art, and that their art doesn't compare to the more "classically trained" pursuits of the artist. The musician proceeds to take the artist down a peg.