Lyrics

You didn't leave much space At the bottom of the page There's room for four words, maybe three And you write, "Nothing can hurt me" You're always "systems go" unless Some little bird stops the press Some things are flexable but true And that doesn't work for you Well the things to you that matter You could hang around the neck Of the drunk and helpless dancer Just to keep those moves in check You want the rock that breaks your back To be polished and without cracks You want a love to save your life But of a certain shape and size Oooh That's a small definition