I'm out of the picture frame 'cause I'm shedding my skin So far down a hole I can never go home Riding over Lake Pontchartrain in a hell of a state There's so many things that I didn't get done It's not the type of picture That you would ever want to take These aren't the kinds of colors That you would want them on your cake Floating in my favorite dress so far outta state Catching too much heat just for saving my skin Have a little laugh I guess if it's funny to you Now I sleep on the ground with the needles and pins It's not the sort of summer That you'd spend swimming at the lake These aren't the kinds of colors That you would want them on your cake It's not the type of picture That you would ever want to take These aren't the kinds of colors That you would want them on your cake