Puedes beber hasta perder la vergüenza, hasta perder las formas, hasta perder el equilibrio, hasta perder la memoria, hasta perder el conocimiento o incluso hasta despertarte en otro país...
...pero hay algo que nunca se olvida: cómo se toca un blues.
A man lives at the corner of the street and his neighbors think he's helpful and he's sweet, cause he never swears and he always shakes you by the hand, but no one knows he really is a plastic man.
He's got plastic heart, plastic teeth and toes, he's got plastic knees and a perfect plastic nose. He's got plastic lips that hide his plastic teeth and gums, and plastic legs that reach up to his plastic bum.
Plastic man got no brain, plastic man don't feel no pain, plastic people look the same.
Kick his shin or tread on his face, pull his nose all over the place, he can't disfigure, or disgrace,plastic man.
He's got plastic flowers growing up the walls, he eats plastic food with a plastic knife and fork, he likes plastic cups and saucers 'cause they never break and he likes to lick his gravy off a plastic plate.
He's got a plastic wife who wears a plastic mac and his children wanna be plastic like their dad. He's got a phony smile that makes you think he understands, but no one ever gets the truth from plastic man.
Meneame
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