Wednesday, February 11, 2004: Parable-Matthew Good

You are the one that took me down
we cannot see
we cannot kick the habit
take your lips and turn them upside down
make me slowly in the image of your perfection

if not the lion then the apple of your eye
if not today then tomorrow is just as fine
I coveted all these things
the bird it knows the bee stings
and then he dies
well, and then he dies

in a lowly room
in a lowly house
in a lowly town
a finger taps a table
bottled ships they run aground
if only for my life
know me

if not the lion then the apple of your eye
if not the jury then guilt is through the alibi
I coveted all these things
the bird it knows the bee stings
and then he dies
well, and then he dies

you are the one that took me down
between your right and wrong
you sure did loan me a lost and found
take your whore lips and make me slowly in the image of your perfection

if not the singer then the apple of your eye
if not a masterpiece then a massacre in disguise
I coveted all these things
the bird it knows the bee stings
and then he dies
well, and then he dies