Black Piano Lyrics

Painted black piano

Covers up the British racing green

Soaking up my shadow

Hands outstretched

To pull out the seat

This stare

I wear

Is wearing down my patience

I want

To blunt

My teeth on all my nails

So much dust has settled

On the keys

Except for middle C

Press it so unconvincingly

Circling round the words to say

I think it's kinda strange

That you're so near

You've no idea

Now's the chance to change the tone

And rest these weary bones

Get in the zone

Well here we go

You can't scratch the itch

Or breath through stitch

If you feel this shit

You should write a fucking number one

Your tongue would confess

That you've been bereft

So puff out your chest

And write a fucking number one instead

This freak

Should speak

Some sense

Smoke blown on the logo

Paint cracks look like James Dean

Crystal glass full of evenings past

One more song

One more key