Get On With It

The Sunday Paper is a mess and I'm not gonna pick it up you are if I could

just get on with it. It don't matter my hair's a mess cause you're not gonna

fix it up for me, I am if I could just get on with it, I would take a breath

outside myself a stranger place I couldn't find and no one knows who I am

and you can't say my name. Can't think of anything else worse 'cause if I

didn't fuck it up you would why can't you just do something right. Just

once change my mind cause if you can I'd be the one you know I am but

you're so blind, you always were I didn't catch your name. I would take a

breath outside myself a stranger place I couldn't find and no one knows

who I am and you can't say my name