The Art Is Done (a Xmas Song)

They wouldn't let me be
The way I want to be
They wouldn't let me sing
The way I want to sing

A Christmas song they want
With jingles and with pomp
Some spacious little tune
That could sell in tons for you
Instead I chose a path
With stones and little rough
With pits and waterfalls
To drown my sorrow's notes

Some told me how to move
Or where "in crowds" with you
How to talk and how to dress
I choose my own happiness

Now I'm gonna sing this song
Even the words do rhyme
And the vers is my own
Don't feel it's wrong
Be what you want

No timing is ever out of place
If you want to be like in the olden days
The art is done
Be what you want

I like it little neat
Individual and free
The words I choose to say
Want reactions on my way

Something that makes us think
Like the truth some speak when drink
Is drowning them in sick

Your reviews are the blues
Your comments of no news
Small minded and quiet bleak
Who's calling out to me?
You're sitting in your room
Belittling the unknown
When you could spend your time
With help and being kind

Now I'm gonna sing a song
Even the words do rhyme
And the vers is my own
Don't feel it's wrong
Be what you want

No timing is ever out of place
If you want to be like in the olden days
The art is done
Be what you want

Be what you want
Be what you want
A Christmas song they want

The art
The art
The art is done
Be what you want