Lyrics Howard Hughes Blues - Pig with the Face of a Boy

Howard Hughes Blues

Well it started quite innocently when I was young
And obsessed with the physics of aeroplane wings
And among other things, with the sizes of peas
Which my special fork sorts with the greatest of ease
I was raised by rich parents
I tell you they daren’t
Permit me to walk with the snails and woodlice
So that’s why Kleenex boxes for shoes are so nice
If I touch something once then I wash my hands twice
If you sneeze on my shirt I’ll burn it in a trice
So don’t touch, I don’t know where you’ve been
I literally fly in the face of great danger
No fear that I’ll die;
my concerns are far stranger
So when you see me hit a tree in a field
Make sure that the medical kit is well sealed
For the germs have no mercy and will never yield;
Broken bones are okay if they’re clean
Haircuts are bad
And the one I just had
Got me nicked on the ear, and the blood made me fear
That I might get infected and so I injected
Ten gallons of milk in my rear
Perhaps I’ll have my hair and nails cut this time next year
I am all too aware of the hygienic issues
And I am not scared, for I’m armed with ten tissues
One hundred milk bottles arranged round my door
They’re there to insure that the urine I store
Is sterile and healthy;
I’m weird and I’m wealthy
I’ll live for a thousand years more
All food is diseased so I rarely eat dinner
No sickness in me, though lately I’m thinner
At least I have three dozen doctors on call
They tell me I’m fine but I still doubt them all
So each germ who sees will read «No Germs Here Please»
Inscribed on the sign on my wall
Don’t play with my food, cause you’ll only upset me
And dust off your coat, or your illness will get me
It’s far less contagious out west in Las Vegas
With clingfilm on pillows and sheets
Sorting green food from brown and dairies from meats
Now hark and you’ll hear of my latest collection:
I’m fetching all food chains who’ve ever been Texan
My favourite toenail is now more like a claw
It’s handy for stabbing the bugs on the floor
I take a great interest in Jane Russell’s breasts
As her nipples count 1 — 2 — 3 — 4
Preserving my health in my self imposed quarantine
Freer of dirt than I’ll warrant you’ve ever been
Ice Station Zebra is screened once again
My friends come to call, bringing virulent strains
Of syphilis, scrofula, lurgy, consumption and gout
But there’s no way for them to get in, or for me to get out
Q — U — A — R — A — N — T — I — N — E