[Verse 1] Ta-da! It is I, your celestial guide— *Whoopsie-daisy!* Don't run! Please don't dive under there and hide! Did I startle your eyeballs? Did I shatter your peace? My apologies, mortal, you can put down the grease! You’ve got blue on your forehead and green on your chin, And you’re staring at me like I’m some kind of sin. I just popped through the drywall to see what you’re at, But I think I just terrified you and your cat! [Pre-Chorus] Look at you trembling, a creature of stress, A puddle of panic, an absolute mess! You hold that tiny paintbrush like a deadly bazooka, While your creative aura smells of anxiety and yuca! [Chorus] [Bouncy, grand, and ridiculously upbeat] Oh, fling the magenta! Let the glitter brigade deploy! Trade all that dignity for glorious, chaotic joy! You’re gonna make dumpster-fire art anyway, my sweet, So do it on purpose! Make it loud! Make it obnoxiously effete! The stakes are in the basement, it’s just mud on a board, So scribble a goblin or a wonky space-lord! Don’t fear it won’t be perfect, that’s a boring design— The only thing to fear is that it *won’t be* at all, sunshine! [Verse 2] You’ve spent fourteen hours on a single kneecap? Darling, bless your sweet soul, but that’s absolute crap! It looks like a potato that’s been run over twice, And your perspective lines are screaming for medical advice! But who cares! Paint a zebra with a polka-dot horn! Paint a majestic, weeping ear of sweetcorn! The universe is giant, and it truly doesn't care If you accidentally gave Mona Lisa receding hair! [Pre-Chorus] You’re squinting and sweating, your spine is a knot, Over-thinking a tiny little microscopic blot! You’re waging a holy war with a tube of yellow-ochre, When you could be lounging like a cosmic poker-joker! [Chorus] Oh, fling the magenta! Let the glitter brigade deploy! Trade all that dignity for glorious, chaotic joy! You’re gonna make dumpster-fire art anyway, my sweet, So do it on purpose! Make it loud! Make it obnoxiously effete! The stakes are in the basement, it’s just mud on a board, So scribble a goblin or a wonky space-lord! Don’t fear it won’t be perfect, that’s a boring design— The only thing to fear is that it *won't be* at all, sunshine! [Bridge] [Tempo slows down to a mock-tragic operatic melodrama] For what is the truest, most hideous crime? The ghost that haunts artists until the end of time? It’s the canvas that’s pristine... The canvas that’s blank... A terrifying void where your bravery sank! [Music rapidly accelerates into a chaotic polka] So slap on some gravy! Smear on some glue! Make a majestic portrait of a sneezing emu! [Scream] *Doodle a noodle!* [Chorus] [Maximum whimsy, marching band horns, and kazoo fanfare] And fling the magenta! Let the glitter brigade deploy! Trade all that dignity for glorious, chaotic joy! You’re gonna make dumpster-fire art anyway, my sweet, So do it on purpose! Make it loud! Make it obnoxiously effete! The stakes are in the basement, it’s just mud on a board, So scribble a goblin or a wonky space-lord! Don’t fear it won’t be perfect, that’s a boring design— The only thing to fear is that it *won't be* at all, sunshine! [Outro] [Gigantic, silly musical theatre finale] Yes, we’ll cackle! We’ll snort! Is that a duck or a wart? Who knows! It's art! Now slap some googly eyes on it. Perfect. [Big jazzy rimshot] *Bazinga!*
