I was a young man, starving and drinking And trying, to become a writer And I remember that apartment The smell of mice and dust And the old woman with the pretty legs All the kisses that I lost to your neck I am a tennis player, playing on both sides of the net And I, will get you yet And I will turn you, I will turn you Like a tattooed pigskin And this time you won't forget my face Read my lips A sculpture is a sculpture Marmalade is marmalade And a sculpture of marmalade is a sculpture But it isn't marmalade She said with you inside me Comes the knowledge of my d**h But I still had some oranges left Underneath the bed I came to you, I came to depend on you I came upon you, I came upon your floor But the god should be left alone One mustn't bang upon the door She said for everything that is visible There is a copy that is hidden She said, nothing takes on life Until it has been eaten I was working the hole with the sailor And you wonder you don't get invited to more parties Read my lips A sculpture is a sculpture Marmalade is marmalade And a sculpture of marmalade is a sculpture But it isn't marmalade She said with you inside me Comes the knowledge of my d**h But I still had some oranges left Underneath the bed