Art torn apart by your contemporary So focused on Childish fairy tales And fictional And harmless scenes You're so disgusted (and turned) your look at ordinary People around you Humble grocers Greedy pimps And teenage whores Second to none, for sure not to the ones That dared to leave you in a corner Forcing you to paint fruits and flowers They pointed out you as a visionary For your ideas and goals Never seen And never thought Before you (You) wanted to wipe (out) that old and arbitrary Habit to portrait (a) sweetened reality