Lyrics:
Oxford Town, Oxford Town
Everybody's got their heads bowed down
The sun don't shine above the ground
Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town
He went down
Oxford Town, Oxford Town
Ev'rybody's got their heads bowed down
The sun don't shine above the ground
Ain't a-goin' down to Oxford Town
He went
You left your typewriter at my apartment
Straight from the tortured poets department
I think some things I never say
Like, "Who uses typewriters
of this effort is
I want to suggest two propositions
The first one is that the poets, by which I mean all artists
Are the only people who know
I am a pop artist so my medium is
Public opinion and the world is my canvas
'I’m sorry' is something that you can
Use a lot it gives
You
You left your typewriter at my apartment
Straight from the tortured poets department
I think some things I never say
Like, "Who uses typewriters
I wrote this song for Louise Nevelson, the sculptor,
Also Billie Holiday, and a group of kick-ass women artists.
Sappho was a poet
Billie was
of Fine Arts, dr west
Dr kanye West: I’m sorry
That was just my opinion
I am a pop artist so
My medium is public opinion and
The world is my canvas
"I’m
ambition bites the nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief
All kill their inspiration and sing about their grief
Over love
Then tell the Grammys to go and fuck themselves
They suck the blood from all the biggest artists like some leeches
So they nominate 'em, get 'em
been to Oxford Town
(All's well)
No I have not been to Oxford Town
Toll the bell
Pay the private eye
(All's well)
20th century dies
ambition bites the nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief
All kill their inspiration and sing about their grief
Over love
The artist, however faithful to his
Personal vision of reality
Becomes the last champion of the
Individual mind and sensibility
Against an intrusive
My only weapon is my pen
And the frame of mind I'm in
I'm a songwriter
A poet
I'm a songwriter
A poet
And the things I flash on everyday
They all
a poet, so that I could express,
What I, what I like to say,
I wish I was an artist, so that I could paint a picture
Of how I feel, how I feel today,
a poet so I could express
What I'd, What I'd like to say, yeah
I wish I were an artist so I could paint a picture
Of how I feel, of how I feel today
the stitches, Hell's Kitchen
I'm throwing dishes
This is spoken wisdom as I
Journey a poet's mission
I'm up lifting, my flow is gifted
Should come with a bow
The artists and the poets fill up every jail
Before I held a rifle I held an artist's brush
Before Tiananmen I even dreamed of love
Ah, I was seventeen
secret at all
It's no secret that a conscience
Can sometimes be a pest
It's no secret ambition bites
The nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal
Every
the poet's every word
Every artist's picture
Every writer's play
You are the glow in every night
You are the warmth in each sunrise
Makes no difference
The Name's Quentin Douglas Nottage
If you didn't know it
The poet
Everything he ever said,
Quote it
No ghosts in this bitch
The exorcist wrote it
I'm
Treat your artists delicately
Treat your artists delicately
Oceans of tears and melancholy
Treat your artists delicately
They hold you, uneasy
These
secret that a conscience can sometimes be a pest
No secret ambition bites the nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief
All
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