Maybe we're nothing but skin and bone
|
Blare and rubber
|
Eyes that blubber
|
Teeth that bite
|
Hands that slight
|
|
And I'm trying to do the best I can
|
But I'm a limited, primitive kind of man
|
|
Maybe we're nothing but skin and bone
|
Nerves that shatter
|
Tongues that flatter
|
Lips that mutter
|
Lashes that flutter
|
|
Mounds of dust and lips of ripe
|
Twice as vicious
|
As the words I type
|
Under a ribbon
|
Of every stripe
|
|
There's a grip that tightens
|
A dark that frightens
|
A wise that crackles
|
A fear that shackles
|
|
And I'm trying to do the best I can
|
But 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 can
|
But 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 think
|
Before your very eyes can blink
|
|
And I'm trying to do the best I can
|
But I'm a limited, primitive kind of man
|
|
-----------------
|
Drum & Bone
|
| Elvis Costello |
