From The Recordings Html



It’s the middle of March and we’re miles from the start
There’s no going back for a coat
I’m tempted to hide in the mountains with all the old goats
I’ve got a fashion disorder with chips on my shoulder
I’m buckled and faded and stained
I need a new coat of paint

The weather’s been tough and I’m chipping away
I look like that guy in the mirror
Scraping some layers, I’m nuder than usual here
Down to the bone, to the essence alone
Stripped down to my virtual frame
Goes my new coat of paint


The emperor came up from behind and he rode by my side
The emperor told me alone you could cover my hide

Now I’m standing so proud / Tailored to order
Brushed on according to grain
Some sanding and primer and texture to cover the pain
Rolled on my back either satin or matte
For a while I’ll stay out of the rain
In my new coat of paint

Ideas alarm me/ Alarms can disarm me
We all march alone in our minds
I’m older/ I’m older/ I’m over it
Over the crime
They’ll all smell the fumes when I enter the room
With the brushed on veneer of a saint
In my new coat of paint