Here’s a song about an acidulous painting (or something of that nature).

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Lyrics

you dropped it, you dropped it, and i caught it
you hawked it, you hawked it, and i bought it
all along the mirrors showed
the air was rusty and that’s how it goes
and the rest of us seemed to hang on every word
like anybody could even know

you dropped it, you dropped it, and i caught it
you hawked it, you hawked it, and i bought it
all my ornaments were sold
to a man with absolutely no soul
and absolute power corrupts the whole world into the mold

and just strip it out so i can see the point
the restless artists are rolling a joint
and the rest hang on their words
with the slight of hand to anoint

and just lay it out so i can see it’s mine
the paintings are covered in turpentine
and the end comes not as a bang
but a whimper near a shrine

you bought it, you bought it, and i forgot it
you hawked it, you hawked it and i lost it
all you left was gold
and you know full well that gold has no soul
and all the walls are left blank like nothing ever showed