Lyrics: Rasputina. Oh, Injury.

Oh my sweet love. He built a rotary cuff.
His shoulder got smashed.
He's gotta mend and repair a device to work where
He got hurt by the blast.
Oh woe is he, unable to see
In front of his face.
A mistreated machine can start acting mean.
It can crack up all over the place.

Oh Injury.
What a nasty wound. Here, let me see.
If you put metal inside of a man,
He can work much faster than you can.
With a toothpick, a pen knife, a can-opener.
Oh Injury.

One kind of fold, they don't know it's broke.
The others don't care.
They just sit and complain about imagined pain.
About an uncle who fell down the stairs.
Since he got hurt, he don't go to work.
We try to get by.
He just sits in his chair with a glazed-over stare.
We can't help but ask ourselves, "Why?"