Somehow the precious things end up behind the glass
Well, I can read the signs - I won't walk on the grass
Don't want no tunnel vision
Just want a nice collision
No maiden aunt's decision to look - not touch.
The Chinese dwell upon that old half-empty cup
If they'd be quiet I would drink the contents up
Just let me feel abrasion
Perfect for all occasions
I'm not of that persuasion to look - not touch.
I got caught red-handed and got reprimanded
Now my hands are red and proud
Oh that scarlet letter makes me feel much better
Cause I stand out in a crowd.
I'll let my fingers do the walking down the trail
Cause there's so much in life that only comes in Braille
You may be quite a mobster
But if I cut the sob story
And hold hands with a lobster, just look don't touch.