Last Supper (feat. Patrick Page)

What you looking at?

What?

It's not me

It's not mine

Five centuries of fucking up my masterpiece

With paint and glue and wax and turpentine

The yahoos come with their selfie sticks

Buy their tix and stand in line

One last crumb

One Last Supper

One last time

My painting's not a wafer

Say a prayer and now it's God

Keep the egg white, chuck the yolk

Blend in pigment, now it's smoke

Lasts a year, ten at most

Fifteen—going, twenty–toast

What remains?

A holy ghost

A holy ghost

What you looking at?

What?

It's not Him

It's not divine

Five centuries of air and dirt and rain and breath

The bread is dust, you think that shit's still wine?

The tourists and their bucket lists

Get their fix, and walk on by

One last crumb

One Last Supper

One last time

What you looking at?

You think it's God?

You call it Faith?

I call it Fraud

The Lady with the Ermine, Mona, Venus

Christ's Last Supper, David's penis

The tourists come from every nation

Stand in line, a standing ovation

And what do they see?

One last crumb (it's not me)

One Last Supper (it's not mine)

One last time