Dean Cutsforth - The Man Who Swapped His Drink for a Straw Lyrics

I want a chapel, high on a hill
I want a choir who will harmonise on cue
Your grand cathedral, miles higher still
Shakes from the tattle of the discord that we spew

I want the dressings, and I need the flair
I need the form before the function is discussed
You strip me down, my soul is bare
Unveil my embers as they fall and turn to dust

And I need more before I've even had a few
I am a man of brittle fabric
And all my seams come loose
So why should a plan of dismal tactics
And all my dreams come true
And I am a man who would trade his drink for a straw

I want a friendship with other Dean
I'd like to know you how the rest of them think you are
'Cause I know the real you
You're sight unseen
Please listen to my words, and not this nice guitar

And I am more than just a little undeserving
I am a man of fickle standing
And all my thoughts recede
Do do do do
And I never can predict my landing
'Cause all my dross impedes
Do do do do
And I am a man who would trade his feet for a chair

Swaps, got, want, need
Had a dream
Split the seam wide
Open my mouth to sing
Songs of dichotomy
And you, we're one
But I, I

I am a man of brittle fabric
And all my seams come loose
Do do do do
So why should a plan of dismal tactics
And all my dreams come true
Do do do do
And I am a man who would trade his drink for a straw