Masters In China

       E
You've always been bashful, you're 
just that way
         cis
But your eyes are like billboards, 
they give you away
     E
Your mouth is a trumpet, somebody 
else plays
     cis
Long after the notes gone, the tone 
usually stays

         A
And your chest a fine pillow, with 
lining of feather
     B
Your hair is a family, with strands 
stick together
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A
Fingers are keys from the grandest 
piano,
B
played by a line that the Lord only 
knew

  E
A tongue of an angel, floats in red 
wine saliva
     cis
Your teeth ravel porcelain, made by 
masters in China
     E
Your face can't be captured by 
pictures or words
         cis
And your voice is a music that I've 
never heard

         A
And your skin is a cream, dipped out
 beyond measure
     B
Your nose is a pink color touched by
 the weather
     A
Your fingers are keys from the 
grandest piano
B
Played by a soul that the Lord only 
knew