Snakeskin Like the shape of the shadow That used to be him Left behind Snakeskin Turn you inside and outside And nothing remains Just an outline Your center slithered off It floated off a space balloon Up to the ether, oh Beat away on a wingtip And here's my bent finger Holding on to the string Snakeskin All I have, all I hold, is this cold leather hand Left in mine But it's snakeskin Desiccated and blown Like a husk in the wind of my mind I'll put it in a box And drop it down into a hole That's six feet under, oh But you've escaped You floated off a silver space balloon Up to the ether, oh Beat away on a wingtip And here's my bent finger Holding on to the string Holding on to the string