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作曲 : Gregory And The Hawk |
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We won't mind if you try to fix him, and then cry into the mic |
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According to stories fireside, he was raised by wolves then cut and left to die |
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It's a useful myth - drink this, shrink down; pop this, grow big |
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And now the rocky ride is ending in a silent glide, slalom down the snow hill in a tin can ride |
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If it weren't so nigh, time you'd be screaming out, if it weren't your kid, you would give into doubt |
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But these days you're trying to quit, like those smiles that he fooled you with |
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We won't mind, feign a thick skin and then split at the sides |
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Faulty rhymes - he was born heart beating to the pulse of poetic crime |
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It's a hard one, kid, the paint's quite peeling, but, boy, the wood is fine |
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|
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And now the rocky ride is ending in a silent glide, slalom down the snowhill in a tin can ride |
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If it weren't so nigh, time you'd be screaming out |
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If it weren't your kid, you would give into doubt |
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But these days you're trying to quit, like those smiles that he fooled you with |
