|
|
| |
 "But What Do You Really Do?" |
So you're a writer: good for you.
What kind? Oh, I used to read lots of poetry,
back in high school, when I had to—
but what do you really do, I mean for a living?
You work in a can factory? You mean, making cans?
What's that like? Do you get much overtime?
That's where the real money is...
So you're a musician: well, isn't that something.
You know, I play the radio! Just kidding—
but what do you really do?
Security guard in a shopping mall?
I bet that keeps you out of trouble...
So you're an actor: it must be fascinating
to portray other people, and take a break
from being yourself—but what do you really do?
You tend bar? I suppose that will prepare you
for an intoxicating role...
So you're a dancer: you know,
when I see a dance on tv, I always think
"They have more fun, performing,
that I have, watching—"
but what do you really do?
You teach? In the public schools?
Good luck...
So you're a painter: that's nice,
everybody needs a hobby—
but what do you really do?
You mean that's all you do?
You make enough to live on?
I thought that only happened
after artists died...
|
|
|