I can make my fingers give me an F
I can make my fingers give me an A
I can move from failing to passing grade
I've been known to
(Known too)
I can move these arms till they cannot move anymore
I can tire these fingers on strings that need some changing chords
I can move so many things
But I can't move you
I can pick my nose from time to time
It's sort of unsightly, but it's mine
I can pick the loser at the horse race,
It's sort of unlucky, you'll make that face
(We lost!...
Again!)
I can pick up after myself most of the time
Most tours need 18 hours till everything's in line
I can pick a lock, that's a lie
MacGuyver or Bond should give it a try
I can pick away at all these unrelenting thoughts
But I
Can't get you
To pick me too
To Pick me too
Ohhh, to pick me too