Masters In China

You've always been bashful

You're just that way

But your eyes are like billboards

They give you away

Your mouth is a trumpet

Somebody else plays

Long after the notes gone

The tone usually staysAnd your chest a fine pillow

With lining of feather

Your hair is a family

With strands stick together

Fingers are keys from

The grandest piano

Played by a mind

That the Lord only knewThe tongue of an angel

Floats in red wine saliva

Your teeth rival porcelain

Made by masters in China

Your face can't be captured

By pictures or words

And your voice is a music

That I've never heardAnd your skin is a cream

Divvied out beyond measure

Your nose is a peak

Never touched by the weather

Your fingers are keys

From the grandest piano

Played by a soul

That the Lord only knewWoo~woo~woo~...