I Shot A Warhol Lyrics - Murs

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 

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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 

Photos 

--- 

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