When I go out with artists

They talk about language and the cubists and the dadaists

And I try to catch their meanings

And keep up with all the martinis

I don't know which should be my favorite paintings



If I could see, if I could see, if I could

See all the symbols, unlock what they mean

Maybe I could, maybe I could, maybe I

Could meet the artists, and get to know them personally



If I were David Byrne

I'd go to galleries and not be too concerned

Well I would have a cup of coffee

And I'd find my surroundings quite amusing and

People would ask me which were my favorite paintings



What if the artists ran the TV?

All the ads would be for fine scotch whiskey:

Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, the whole single malt family



The artists of the future

Will make up new things and different nomenclatures

And they'll stand amongst their pictures

And they'll sing and laugh and quote from scriptures and

When they go home they'll dream of brilliant paintings