Texty piesní Crash Test Dummies

Crash Test Dummies

An Old Scab

I sit each morning, look at my empty notebook

The room is quite, the air conditioning sounds like rain falling

Manic-depressive composer Robert Schumann,

When he could not write, would get down on his knees

And he would pray for help

It's not as bad as eating your own liver;

But still, I'd like to think that there are better methods

I try to tackle the page that lay before me

But then I drift off, and think about the concept of Ben-Wah balls...

I rouse myself and I finish washing dishes,

Make lists of errands, make all my phone calls

And then I pray for help

But each time I try to make a fresh stab

I end up just picking at an old scab