All I am is a piece of wood Cut from something living Touch me I don't feel to good I'm cold but I'm not shivering You say I do not know, to say All I am is the tail of a worm Cut from something Squirming Pinned to the earth I twist and turn For soil and roots I'm yearning All I am is a fingertip Some angel's placed in cotton And the syphalactic doctor says he'll make it fit But all his learning he's forgotten
All I am is a piece of wood Cut from something living Touch me I don't feel to good I'm cold but I'm not shivering You say I do not know, to say All I am is the tail of a worm Cut from something Squirming Pinned to the earth I twist and turn For soil and roots I'm yearning All I am is a fingertip Some angel's placed in cotton And the syphalactic doctor says he'll make it fit But all his learning he's forgotten
