[Verse 1]
I do not want to be a hand towel
I do not want to be a wagging tail, no
[Chorus 1]
Though I love those things
They might not be the means
Through a screen of tears
I'll see soon
That's a plate, not a room
[Solos]
[Verse 2]
She did not think he'd mind
That she thought such things
About mice and fire, blades and wire wings, no
[Chorus 2]
Though she loved those things
They turned out not to be the means
On a phone by a dune
That's a plate, not a room
On the hood there's a moon
That's a plate, not a room