Instrument
Ensembles
Genres
Komponistar
Utøvere

Sangtekst: Blind Melon. Soup. Skinned.

I'll make a shoehorn outta your shin
I'll make a lampshade of durable skin
And, oh, don't you know that I'm always feelin' able
When I'm sittin' home and I'm carving out your navel?
I'm just a sittin' here carving out your navel

When will I realize that this skin I'm in? Hey, it isn't mine
And when will the kill be too much meat for me to hide on?

Hey, I could really use a couple of hands
To complete one hell of a plant stand
Oh, and don't you know that I'm caught here in the middle
Making rib cages into coffee tables?
I'm just makin' em into coffee tables

And when will I realize that this skin I'm in? Hey, it isn't mine
And when will the thrill be too much meat for me to find anymore?

Oh, because you know I can't hide but oh how hard I try
But this is just the shape I'm in
Although I know I can't hide but, oh, how hard I try
But this is just the shape I'm in, oh yeah, oh yeah