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Get on With It - Letters to Cleo



     
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Get on With It Lyrics


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 myselfA 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.
Songwriters
JONES, EDGAR WILLIAMPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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Letters to Cleo were an alternative rock band from Boston, Massachusetts (although they originally started out as a ska band). The band was made up of members Michael Eisenstein, Kay Hanley, Stacy Jones, Greg McKenna, Scott Riebling, and Tom Polce. Their name came from the fact that Hanley had a pen pal named Cleo when she was younger, although the letters she wrote would often be returned. Hanley kept them in a box under her bed marked "Letters to Cleo", and happened to stumble across the box as the band was attempting to think of a name for itself.

Read more about Letters to Cleo on Last.fm.


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Letters to Cleo