[Verse 1]
I'll make a shoehorn outta your shin
I'll make a lampshade of durable skin
And, oh, don't you know that I'm always feeling able
When I'm sitting home and I'm carving out your navel?
I'm just a sitting here carving out your navel
[Chorus]
When will I realize that this skin I'm in, hey, it isn't mine?
And when will the kill be too much meat for me to hide?
[Verse 2]
Hey, I could really use a couple of hands
To complete one hell of a plant stand
Oh, and don't you know that I'm caught here in the middle
Making rib cages into coffee tables?
I'm just making 'em into coffee tables
[Chorus]
And when will I realize that this skin I'm in, hey, it isn't mine?
And when will the thrill be too much meat for me to find anymore?
[Outro]
Oh, because you know I can't hide, but, oh, how hard I try
But this is just the shape I'm in
Although I know I can't hide, but, oh, how hard I try
But this is just the shape I'm in, oh yeah, oh yeah
Again, the author shows us an Ed Gein just trying to change his appearance because he hates his own body
These lines are full of humor: indeed, the author tries to show us the other side of Ed Gein’s mind by depicting a vulnerable man who just doesn’t feel good in his body (in French, this would litteraly be “not good in his skin” (pas bien dans sa peau)).
The repetition of “making coffee tables” suggests the person talking is perfectly casual about this
With irony the author hear speaks of all the hands the killer cut from the corpses he dug up
Here’s what the singer said about Ed Gein: “He was kind of like an Indian – he would make use of everything he killed. He would use parts of human bodies for everything. He would make furniture out of their bones and use skin to make lampshades.”