Select language to translate this lyric
I'm smarter than a chair, until it needs
red paint
Then I'm amazed in a forest of stares
Crying oil, and picking horsetail feathers
From my eyes
A grin of shadows press my face
I am a forger or a fake
Who dabs and bursts each blood-filled egg
And whips his raw steak of a brush into an X
I wanna quit with all my skin
But I can't find a place to sit with all this red
On my hands
Or even trace these slapdash tears back to
the start
I coat it twice, and thrice
I rub it on with tan lotion
And like a child, I let it stream
Watching it ebb, full of emotion
My neighbour stares, I'm red as Mars
(He's smarter than a can of paint)
ÂIt looks real nice, he finally says
ÂAnd where's your lovely wife today?Â
ÂShe's in the house baking a cake.Â
- Album:
- Miscellaneous
- Heartland
- Spectrum, 14th Century
- Plays To Please
- Miscellaneous
- Compilation
- He Poos Clouds
- Has a Good Home
- Young Canadian Mothers
- FM4 Soundselection: 13
- Many Lives → 49 MP
- Spex CD #63
- 2006-01-11: Over the Top, Toronto, ON, Canada
- 2006-09-29: Berlin, Germany
- Uncut: Wake Up!
- Esopus, Volume 8: Spam
- Musikexpress 0210
- Puppy Love: 10 Years of Tomlab
- XVI Reflections on Classical Music
- Rolling Stone: New Noises, Volume 78