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