Listening as I embroider today:

 "First there's lights out, then there's lock up
Masterpieces serving maximum sentences
It's their own fault for being timeless
There's a price to pay, and a consequence
All the galleries and museums
'Here's your ticket, welcome to the tombs'
They're just public mausoleums--
The living dead fill every room...

They will hang there, in their gold frames
For forever, forever and a day
All the rowboats in the oil paintings
They keep trying to row away, row away"

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