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Maybe we're nothing but skin and bone |
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Blare and rubber, eyes that blubber |
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Teeth that bite, hands that slide |
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And I'm trying to do the best |
|
I canBut I'm a limited, primitive kind of man |
|
Maybe we're nothing but skin and bone |
|
Nerves that shatter, tongues that flatter |
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Lips that mutter, lashes that flutter |
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Mounds of dust and lips of ripe |
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Twice as vicious as the words |
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I typeUnder a ribbon of every stripe |
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There's a grip that tightens, a dark that frightens |
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A wise that crackles, a fear that shackles |
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And I'm trying to do the best |
|
I canBut I'm a limited, primitive kind of man |
|
And then that kinder creation |
|
Becomes a fine fixation |
|
All of a sudden |
|
With the parts we've hidden |
|
Because they are forbidden |
|
Beneath a hide of pain, you'll find a soul of stain |
|
While fists still beat, at heart's deceit |
|
And I'm trying to do the best |
|
I canBut I'm a limited, primitive kind of man |
|
Maybe with nothing but a drum and drone |
|
I want to beat it 'til |
|
I get unknown |
|
Pig some skin, stretch it tight |
|
Make myself up overnight |
|
Maybe this is nothing but drum and drone |
|
Wanna beat it 'til |
|
I get unknown |
|
Dig my pin, kick up some stink |
|
Find myself a brand new kink |
|
Prick that berry and squeeze this ink |
|
Scratch out all of the words |
|
I thinkBefore your very eyes can blink |
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And I'm trying to do the best |
|
I canBut I'm a limited, primitive kind of man |
