Deathray Davies She Can Play Me Like A Drum Machine
I know a girl who thinks just like I do. Stays in her
room, reads numbers not words. Make an assumption: a new
equation. Now I can't think about other birds. Under the
seven numbers she gave me, only a first name. With anyone
else I'd throw it away. But she can play me like a drum
machine. I look out the window. I know I'll be here for a
while. Under the stars we don't wish for money, just
another sunny afternoon. I should go solo and play on the
banjo along with her favorite Bill Monroe tune. Over the
counter prescriptions surround her. She's up and down on
a trampoline. With anyone else I'd throw it away. But she
can play me like a drum machine. Know something: I'm not
a stand-in. I'll be here a while. Know something: I'm not
a stand-in, but I don't know why. I know a girl who
thinks just like I do. That might not be true. She comes
close. Make an assumption: a new equation. If she were a
drug I'd overdose.
