I shot a Warhol   Dead with my pistol   When the wind hit the hole   In the canvas it whistled   Beautiful with no frame   A face with no name   Glass full of cold fame   Chased it with slow pain      ---      Nostrils of cocaine   Cocktail and kill time   Scenes from a bad film   Lived out in real time   Who plays the hero   Which one's the victim   Violent and fearful   They find their positions      Pride and ambition, the enemies inside you   Tendencies to listen, even when you're lied to   Pry through the details   Unmask the myth   Try to impress the cast   With acid trips   Mash your lips against a cold hard bottle of   Washed up stars and old role models      She loves the sorrow   So much that she swallows   But talk to tomorrow   Which walk will she follow   Everybody needs to be appreciated   Execute him for the masterpiece that he created   Death of a sales martyr   Fire starter   If the hate doesn't make you wanna die   Try harder      ---      I shot a Warhol   Dead with my pistol   When the wind hit the hole   In the canvas it whistled   Beautiful with no frame   A face with no name   Glass full of cold fame   Chased it with slow pain      No game to rise to   The coke side blinds you   Hope with no aim   And its the fuel that you "Eye" to   Steady with that rifle   Pointed at your idle   Open up the spot   With each fallen rival      This is the cycle   Replace the A-list   The next batch of faces   Can come hate the famous   Everybody thinks that what they make is golden   When Lennon got shot   There were thoughts of holding   What'cha gonna do to impress the bitch   Which slow blow gets picked   When you get that itch      If they notice   That you're climbing to the focus   Surround yourself with soldiers   and like minded moments   Dark sticks, in whoever heart's the biggest   Eye of the beholder   Is dark, cold and vicious   She loves you   Because she loves image   Let's tear it all apart   From the start to the finish      ---   I shot a Warhol   Dead with my pistol   When the wind hit the hole   In the canvas it whistled   Beautiful with no frame   A face with no name   Glass full of cold fame   Chased it with slow pain      It's nothing but a slow pulse   If you just stop feeling it   Your friends and your folks   Can't adjust to what you're dealing with   Accustomed to trust   Now the lust got you killing it   Eyes wide shut   Now your fucked   No healing it      Travel down the barrel towards the light   Once in open space   it's easy to lose sight   Don't look down   You're bound to fall flat   If you do hit the ground   You're bound to bounce back      The sound track   She hated every single song   But everybody else   Seemed to wanna sing along   Bring along   The belief that every thing is wrong   We all break down in front of God   Before the break of dawn      Silence   Open up the eyelids   To sex, drugs, and violence   Movies, songs, books   Everything is based on it   So we stay on it   Got a bullet with your face on it   ---   I shot a Warhol   Dead with my pistol   When the wind hit the hole   In the canvas it whistled   Beautiful with no frame   A face with no name   Glass full of cold fame   Chased it with slow pain