I'm not the prisoner of my skin

It's flexible and paper thin

I'm breaking out to let you in

Where I get pierced with a little pin



Little pricks I could hardly feel --

tiny little needles made of steel

I make a statement, hear my cry --

something I'll have past the day that I die

I was inspired by the illustrated man --

I got my first butterfly on my can

I'm running out of room I can't find a place --

I'll have to put the Last Supper on my face



Tattoo, tattoo me now tattoo ow



I can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery --

unless before I die I become very hairy

I can't get a job that means anything --

But I can always get a nipple ring

A pattern of scars filled with ink --

like vacation postcards don't you think?

Running from my ankle all the way to my breast --

is a map of my vacation in the wild wild west



Tattoo, tattoo me now tattoo ow



My body is a canvas -- a picture I control

A gallery of images -- I worship every hole

The back's an empty album -- begging for some art

Dragons, lizards, ancient gods -- only question -- where to start