My Man - They Might Be Giants

My Man,
Muscles from hand to foot,
Completely coated in uninterupted skin.
My man,
Signals command the leg,
To follow orders coming down from headquarters.
Why then am I in bed?
I guess my man's fallen out with my head.

May I direct your attention to the following similie;
You're like the coasts of an ocean,
Burried beneath is a submarine cable connecting the oposite shores that surround it/

My Man,
How can he stand,
Your fingers could encircle clear around the ankle,
My man won't walk again,
In conflict with express instructions given by the brain,
Why can't the message be sent?
I guess my man's fallen out with my head.

When something happens to drag on the floor of the ocean,
For instance, an anchor or mooring,
The cable can be disrupted and even be severed,
Which haults transmission across it,
There is no way to repair the break.

My Man,
Muscles from hand to foot,
Completely coated in uninterupted skin.
My man,
Signals command the leg,
To follow orders coming down from headquarters.
My Man,
How can he stand?

My Man,
Muscles from hand to foot,
Completely coated in uninterupted skin.
My man,
Signals command the leg,
To follow orders coming down from headquarters.
My Man,
Won't walk again.

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