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I am only flesh and bones, |
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Splintered glass and tattered clothes, |
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behind the skin, my fragility, |
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behind the skin, a skeletal impracticality, |
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I am only pieces of you, |
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held together with paper glue, |
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behind the skin, my divinity |
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behind the skin, my only sanctuary. |
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You can lean on me, have a drink on me, |
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leave your mark all over me, |
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paint the outside 'till it smiles, |
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you can eat off me, rest your head on me, |
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press yourself on top of me, |
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kick the back until its quiet. |
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All in all I'm just furniture, |
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Just another piece taking you one step further from the perfect living room set, |
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All in all I'm just furniture, |
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In these 4 walls that hold me, keep me safe under sound and bare within its grip. |
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My wooden heart it sings no more, |
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This dress I wear becomes the floor, |
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behind the skin, a living, breathing thing, |
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behind the skin, a place you've never been. |
|
You can lean on me, have a drink on me, |
|
leave your mark all over me, |
|
paint the outside 'till it smiles, |
|
you can eat off me, rest your head on me, |
|
press yourself on top of me, |
|
kick the back until its quiet. |
|
All in all I'm just furniture, |
|
Just another piece taking you one step further from the perfect living room set, |
|
All in all I'm just furniture, |
|
In these 4 walls that hold me, keep me safe under sound and bare within its grip. |
|
I am only flesh and bones, |
|
Splintered glass and tattered clothes. |
