Well I ran across Picasso With a paintbrush in his hand He painted twenty houses Between Elmhurst Road and Rand And as he washed on up I could tell that he was through So I went up and I asked him How does it feel to be you? So Picasso and me We were walking hand in hand We came across Van Gogh And he was playing in a band And though I liked his music He just didn't have a clue So I went up and I asked him How does it feel to be you? How does it feel to be you? How does it feel to be me? I painted myself in a corner And I can't leave So the three of us we traveled And we came across Rembrandt He was taking dirty pictures Of some photogenic tramp And though I liked his poses With the sunlight's gentle hue I went up and I asked him How does it feel to be you? Well the four of us stood there With nothing left to say It's amazing how our lives have turned In several different ways Without no hesitation But by more a subtle cue They smiled and then they asked me How does it feel to be you?
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