Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: The Toadies. Cut Me Out.

Lay there with the sheets pulled up over your head
How long do you think you can play dead?
Underneath the skin I am, pinchin' and fingerin'
Every nerve, every thought do you think you can cut me out

Do you think you can cut me out
Who you tryin' to kid, let me tell you a little 'bout myself
I live deeper than any blade can get at
So steady your hand you think you can then cut me out

I been keepin' me a list
Of every wicked thing you did
Scrawled across the walls of my cell

A little [unverified]
A little skin
A little cage to keep me in
Do you think you can let me go

Now do you think you can cut me out
Who you tryin' to kid let me tell you a little about myself
I live deeper than any blade can get at
So steady your hand you think you can then cut me out

A little [unverified]
A little skin
A little cage to keep me in

Lay there with the sheets pulled up over your head
How long do you think you can play dead?