My luck sits sultry in a paper cup
Drowned in hotel coffee
I drink it so it's sucked into
my pale and searching body
It makes my warm feet shake
And my hands know what I mean
When I say that I'm not looking
But it could be the caffeine
Well I bury my secrets well
I never kiss and tell
I knock on wood
But I got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
My stories are hard to tell
I never end them well
I knock on wood
But I've got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
I should of said so from the start
Will I never not be broken
I got truth trees in my shopping cart
In case I gave to help here
Sick of fortune's taunting games
Searching for something to blame
When it happened baby once again
Crazy pills and in deep?
Composing in the den maybe I need to need a friend
Well I bury my secrets well
I never kiss and tell
I knock on wood
But I got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
My stories are hard to tell
I never end them well
I knock on wood
But I've got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
Drowned in hotel coffee
I drink it so it's sucked into
my pale and searching body
And my hands know what I mean
When I say that I'm not looking
But it could be the caffeine
I never kiss and tell
I knock on wood
But I got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
My stories are hard to tell
I never end them well
I knock on wood
But I've got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
Will I never not be broken
I got truth trees in my shopping cart
In case I gave to help here
Searching for something to blame
When it happened baby once again
Crazy pills and in deep?
Composing in the den maybe I need to need a friend
I never kiss and tell
I knock on wood
But I got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
My stories are hard to tell
I never end them well
I knock on wood
But I've got splinters in my hands
And that ain't good
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I think it's 'my pale and searching body' 'when I say that I'm not looking but it could be the caffine'
You didn't explain the song. I think it's about a man who's proud of his many love affairs (lust affairs) and he knocks on wood every time he believes he gets away with something. He carries trees around w/ him 'cause he needs them every time he has to try to conceal his activies. His hands are so full of splinters because his life is so filled with sin and lies. In essense, he feels others are stupid and don't know what he's doing or what he's made of (or not made of, more likely). Creative song.