You've always been bashful, you're just that waynBut your eyes are like billboards, they give you awaynYour mouth is a trumpet, somebody else playsnLong after the notes gone, the tone usually staysnnAnd your chest a fine pillow, with lining of feathernYour hair is a family, with strands stick togethernFingers are keys from the grandest piano, played by a line that the Lord only knewnnA tongue of an angel, floats in red wine salivanYour teeth ravel porcelain, made by masters in ChinanYour face can't be captured by pictures or wordsnAnd your voice is a music that I've never heardnnAnd your skin is a cream, dipped out beyond measurenYour nose is a peak never touched by the weathernYour fingers are keys from the grandest pianonPlayed by a soul that the Lord only knowsnnOoh