Well recently I volunteered
To test the modern surgeon’s arts
Thought I’d improve on nature
And get some brand new body parts
I got two artificial legs
And new mechanical hands
Now I shake my titanium hips
And feel like a real bionic man
Spare parts
Synthetic flesh and bone and hair parts
Who knows where the plasma ends
And where the plastic starts
I had heart and kidney transplants
Donors liver and silicone implants
Even had my intestines shortened
So I’d fit into my new pants
A plastic surgeon did my face-lift
He took six inches off my thigh
Now what I’d really like to know
Is who the hell am I?
Spare parts
Synthetic flesh and bone and hair parts
Who knows where the plasma ends
And where the plastic starts
My pacemaker skips a beat
When I think of my next date
Will my girlfriend get excited
Over my vitalium skull plate?
I got silicon plastic ears
And a cosmetic acrylic eye
But what I’d really like to know
Is who the hell am I?
Spare parts
Synthetic flesh and bone and hair parts
Who knows where the plasma ends
And where the plastic starts
I got a tefflon-coated stomach
Brand new joints and arteries
An electronic larynx
And testicles from chimpanzees
False teeth that fit so snugly
In my metallic jawbone
And a nicotine stained second-hand lung
Whose donor was unknown
Spare parts
Synthetic flesh and bone and hair parts
Who knows where the plasma ends
And where the plastic starts
And now to top it all off
A synthetic blood transfusion
Makes my identity unclear
And only adds to the confusion
I always thought I was my body
But now I know that that’s a lie
And what I really want to know
Is who the hell am I?
Comment
“Who the hell am I?” you say.
I’m tempted to reply
That who the world has thought you were is no more than a lie.
We saw that form of flesh and blood
But it was no more you
Than paper books from library shelves are lumps of ink and wood.
The real book is subtler far;
So is the real you
An entity of subtle form, of spirit through and through