surgeon

St. Vincent

I spent the summer on my back
And under attack
Staying just to get along

Turn off the TV, wait in bed
A bluer red
I want somethin' to get along

Best find a surgeon
Come cut me open

Dressing, undressing for the wall
If mother calls
She knows well we don't get along

I tell the mailman, "Never you mind
I'll sift through the piles"
And for him to just get along

Best find a surgeon
Come cut me open