Lyrics:
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
Wooh!
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only you would listen
To what he has to say
There are songs of wisdom
There are songs
And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
His mind is up his sleeve
And his talk is make believe
Oh, Lord, the man's a fraud
He's a flim flam man
He's an artist
He's a flim flam man
He's
Morning fields of amber gray
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
It may be warm but the snow is going to fall,
Enough to cover us all.
We've gotta be strong men and follow a path again.
We've got to have faith
Don't fall on my face
Don't fall on my faith, oh
Don't fall on my fate
Don't fall on my faith, oh
Don't fall on my fate
Don't fall on my
Gotta
La Rock (Rock)
I gave her good dick, the type her heart'll stop (heart'll stop)
Them ass shots on her make an artist drop (artist)
Nigga, damn
years have passed
The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast
The artist knew their faces well
The husbands of his lady friends
His
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
years have passed
The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast
The artist knew their faces well
The husbands of his lady friends
His
to your trick
And your trick will be art
Artists are hard-working men
After you're perfect, that's when you first start
Over and over again, once again,
a fan that you can gain
They love it when you smile unaware that it's a strain
It's a curse you gotta live with when you born to entertain
Women need
This tribal song with gipsy background vocals is aimed at the women who share their life. it fans the flames of their desire and the possessiveness
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
stops to rest awhile
All the artists look at her and they long to paint her smile
For even in her sorrow there's something in her eyes
That makes
But there they stemmed the rebel tide
And there their faith was saved
Wasn't that a time, wasn't that a time?
A time to try the soul of men
But there they stemmed the rebel tide
And there their faith was saved
Wasn't that a time, wasn't that a time?
A time to try the soul of men
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