[Intro: delicate piano waltz, solo tenor; melody rises uneasily] I woke between two halves of bread. Somebody’d tucked me in. A little red beneath the lamp, A little tight around the skin. [Verse 1: lilting piano, melodic bass; intimate sung delivery, growing agitation] The butcher’s thumb had left a dent Where I imagined ribs. He tied me off at either end And called me one of his. I wore his little paper crown. He wrote my price. I wrote it down. [Pre-Chorus: waltz accelerates; stacked harmonies enter, drums gathering] The label said a hundred things. It never mentioned me. If I am everything it says, Who gets to say what I should be? [Chorus: switch to driving 4/4; grand piano, soaring guitar, full theatrical harmonies] Whose skin am I in? Who’s been keeping me together? If I’m all beef, Why do I dream of feathers? There’s a family tree They couldn’t fit upon the tin. Everybody’s on the label. Whose skin am I in? [Verse 2: clipped glam-rock strut; nimble bass and sharp piano accents] I asked the pig. He turned away. The chicken wouldn’t meet my eyes. The cow said, “You’ve your father’s face.” The sheep said, “Only on the outside.” I went to find my next of kin. The butcher said, “How many links?” [Operatic Interlude: rapid sung counterpoint; pompous bass, anxious tenor, bright falsetto] (A natural casing!) A borrowed suit! (A secret seasoning!) Whose family roots? (A wholesome family recipe!) Then why won’t anybody talk to me? [Guitar Solo: eight bars; harmonized lead guitars trade phrases with hammering piano, sudden stop] [Bridge: piano alone; slower, vulnerable, fully sung] He called me scraps. He swept me up. He pressed me into shape. And now I’m meant to thank him For the ends he didn’t waste. But something in the grinder Learned to sing. Did he put that in? [Final Chorus: full band returns; higher register, expansive harmonies, triumphant unease] Whose skin am I in? Who’s been keeping me together? If I’m all beef, Why do I dream of feathers? You can name the parts. You can count them on the tin. But you can’t tell me who I am By telling me who’s in. [Final Refrain: suspended chord; lead holds the question, choir answers softly] Whose skin am I in? (Mine, for the time being.) [Outro: instrumental only; opening piano waltz returns beneath harmonized guitars, three emphatic closing chords]
