cut it out, your self-inflected pain is getting too routine
the crowds are catching on to the self-afflicted song
well here we go again, the art of acting weak
fall in love to fail, to boost your CD sales
and that CD sales yeah what a hit, you got to repeat it

you gotta sink to swim
if first you dont, you dont succeed
you gotta recreate your misery
cause we all know art is hard
yeah the artists gotta starve
try and fail and try again
the comforts of repetition
keep turnin out those hits
till its all the same old shit

oh, a second verse
well color me fatigued
im hiding in the leaves
of the CD jacket sleeves
tired of entertaining
some double-deaf meaning
a soft served analogy
those drunken angry slurs
in 31 flavors

you gotta sink gotta sink gotta sink to swim
immerse yourself in rejection
regurgitate some sorry tale
about a boy who sells his love affairs

gotta fake fake fake the pain
gotta make make make a scene
gotta break break break a leg
when you get on stage and they scream your name
oh cursive is so cool

you gotta sink gotta sink gotta sink to swim
impersonate greater persons
cause we all know art is hard
and we dont know who we are

hey hey
hey hey