Pity the Artist

from by Careers In Science

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lyrics

These hacks can't learn my songs.
They never, EVER sing along.
I'm so, so, so alone on stage with the microphone.
Once we collect the door, I'll pack my things and go.
This isn't a game, you know.
I'm taking my ball and I'm going home.

Built these walls out of styrofoam
I can hang my paintings on.
I'm so, so cynical. No one's gonna come to my show.
Shout my pain through a megaphone
standing on my neighbour's lawn, as part of my series on
the suffering I own.

All my photographs developed in blood
where I'm hanging up like Jesus Christ,
tell me darling what's your favourite one?
You should pay for it, it's fairly priced, it was the hardest,
pity the artist.

And if no one shows tonight, I'll stay at home and write
a deposition of the suffering I love.
And if everyone buys it all, I'll curl into a ball
to drown these praising drones in the hope that someone will take me home.

All my photographs developed in blood
where I'm hanging up like Jesus Christ,
tell me darling what's your favourite one?
You should pay for it, it's fairly priced, it was the hardest,
pity the artist.

These hacks can't learn my songs.
They never, EVER sing along.
I'm so, so, so alone
on stage with the microphone.

credits

from FOREVERWOLF, released July 1, 2012

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Careers In Science Toronto, Ontario

Nerdy post-punk and hardcore influenced punk rock by way of Black Flag and Devo; fast, guitar-driven songs about giant monsters, suburban paranoia, and that moment when you realize you're no longer a kid. Throw in a healthy dose of satire and video game references and you've got Careers In Science. ... more

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