[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