Cut it out- your self-inflicted pain

is getting too routine

the crowds are catching on

to the self-inflicted song

Well, here we go again

the art of acting weak

Fall in love to fail

to boost your CD sales

(And that CD sells- yeah, what a hit)

You've got to repeat it

you gotta' sink to swim

If at fist you don't succeed

you gotta recreate your misery

'cause we all know art is hard

young artists have gotta starve

Try, and fail, and try again

the comforts of repetition

Keep churning out those hits

'til it's all the same old shit



Oh, a second verse!

Well, color me fatigued

I'm hiding in the leaves

in the CD jacket sleeves

tired of entertianing

some double-dipped meaning

a soft serve analogy

This drunken angry slur

in thirty-one flavors

You gotta' sink to swim

immerse yourself in rejection

regurgitate some sorry tale

about a boy who sells his love affairs

You gotta' fake the pain

you better make it sting

you're gonna' break a leg

when you get on stage

and they scream your name

"Oh, Cursive is so cool!"



You gotta sink to swim

impersonate greater persons

'cause we all know art is hard

when we don't know who we see