When I go out with artists
  They talk about language and the cubists and the dadaists
  And I try to catch their meanings
  And keep up with all the martinis
  I don't know which should be my favorite paintings
    If I could see, if I could see, if I could
  See all the symbols, unlock what they mean
  Maybe I could, maybe I could, maybe I
  Could meet the artists, and get to know them personally
    If I were David Byrne
  I'd go to galleries and not be too concerned
  Well I would have a cup of coffee
  And I'd find my surroundings quite amusing and
  People would ask me which were my favorite paintings
    What if the artists ran the TV?
  All the ads would be for fine scotch whiskey:
  Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, the whole single malt family
    The artists of the future
  Will make up new things and different nomenclatures
  And they'll stand amongst their pictures
  And they'll sing and laugh and quote from scriptures and
  When they go home they'll dream of brilliant paintings