Letras
First are you our sort of person?
Do you wear a glass eye or a crutch?
A brace or a hook?
Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch?
Stitches to show something's missing?
No? Then how can we give you anything?
Stop crying. Hold out your hand.
Empty? Yeah it's empty
But here is a hand to fill it
And willing to bring teacups,
Smooth away headaches,
Do anything you want to tell it.
Will you marry it?
It's guaranteed to thumb-shut your eyes at the end
And dissolve of sorrow,
We make new stock from the salt.
I see you are stark naked
How about this suit?
Well it's black and stiff
But it's a pretty good fit
Will you marry it?
It's shatterproof, waterproof,
Proof against fire and bombs through the roof.
Believe me, they'll bury you in it.
Now your head, excuse me, is empty,
Well I've got the ticket for that -
Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
Now what do you think of that?
Well, naked as paper to start,
But in twenty five years she'll be silver,
In fifty - gold.
A living doll.
Everywhere you look
It can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk, talk.
Well it works, there's nothing wrong with it,
You got an eye, it's an image,
You got a hole, it's a poultice.
My boy it's your last resort.
I said my boy it's your last resort.
Will you mary it, marry it, marry it, marry it?