Sense Sickness

Yes you read him like an open book
A wonderful man, a sentimental bloke
You teamed him up with your silent big sister
Who needed Dutch courage just to speak a Chinese whisper
Having borrowed him a heart from the mills and blue moonglow
You saw your sense sickness to be just another way to grow

Ears
Eyes
Lips
Hands
Sound
Sight
Taste
Touch

So you can put them together
We'll be birds of a feather
Wonder whether they'll get on well together
Sing with me, sing with me
Sing my alias, sing my vanity

Now close the covers on the open book
The rawness myself, let me take another senseless look
The wonderful man's now driving a van
As fast as he can from the sign of drunk and merry men
All the eons and all the chains
Could never put my foot back in my face again
Again