He's An Artist / Look lady
He’s an artist, he’s just an artist
That’s the hardest thing to bear
Random sketches on cow or page
Won’t support me in my old age
And him, what does he care?
I say be a doctor, be a lawyer
Be a sawyer or bricklayer
But instead he’s chosen art
Now does that seem very smart?
Oh him, what does he care?
Okay boys, take it away
Sorry lady, we’ve got to make way
For a stadium for the Giants or the Jets
Or let’s say, the Nets
C’mon boys, yes, let’s
Get a move on – today!
Look, lady, here’s the idea
We’re gonna build a Big Ikea
Huge, wide, and high
Look, lady, don’t you cry
Your son needs a job, he can apply
Well, gotta go, I’ll see ya
What about my artist, my little artist? Look, lady, I don’t know
He’s not the smartest boy out there Just where you might go
A job in the city, or at the mall New Jersey, Long Island
Might there be no place at all All I know is this is my land
For him, why do I care? Anyway, you take care
Because he’s my little artist, and he’s there I’ll see you round, somewhere
All words and music by Dave Hall ©
Publisher: Row House Music PRO: ASCAP