To simple truths I'm often blind
I'm coarse and unrefined
And narrow through the mind
And genius leaves me cold
Or so I'm often told

So when I see unsightly scrawls
In filthy men's room stalls
Or on museum walls
It's hard to tell apart
Graffiti from mere art

I still can't tell
My marble from my granite
My Monet from my Manet
But at least I understand it

I still can't tell
Magritte from my El Greco
Art-nouveau from art-deco
Now you're asking me to let go

But I know what I like
It's a pretty picture or a pretty song
My right stays right and my wrong stays wrong
And I can't seem to grasp
The meaning of modern art
The meaning of modern art

I still can't tell
My Rockwell from my Warhol
No, I can't keep them straight at all
And it used to make me feel small

But now it seems
The art ain't even pretty
The wit ain't even witty
But we buy it out of pity

But I know what I like...

I tried, I tried
But I'm just losing patience
With your video installations
And your navel explorations

Your rotting meat
And your piles of broken dishes
And your tributes to Sid Vicious
And you call your art ambitious!

But I know what I like...