| The golden boy in my head
|
| He polishes a medal
|
| With wit and a bit of muscle
|
| He always keeps it level
|
| Got bass tones in the buggy
|
| So he gives a heavy hello
|
| And if he’s 1940's
|
| He whistles through a meadow
|
| He’s pressed upon me
|
| I should
|
| Should have known it
|
| I should
|
| I should have know it when
|
| I cast that spell as I got my hair cut short
|
| He called me tiger
|
| And he ruffled me for sport
|
| I should have known it when
|
| My brother punched and kicked his earrings off!
|
| Stifled the magpie and has not gone near jewelry seriously since then
|
| We make the boy a banner
|
| Heavy so he can carry
|
| Carry but he can’t look up
|
| And ever read the letters
|
| I make my life his double
|
| Try and do what he’s gonna
|
| And if I’m gonna sweat it
|
| I take a glass of water
|
| Are you happy with that?
|
| Happy?
|
| Happy with that?
|
| Happy?
|
| I should have know it when
|
| I cast that spell as I got my hair cut short
|
| He called me tiger
|
| And he ruffled me for sport
|
| I should have known it when
|
| My brother punched and kicked his earrings off!
|
| Stifled the magpie and has not gone near jewelry seriously since then
|
| Oh to see swathes of them
|
| With not a thing chipped off nothing chipped on
|
| Born in silence, slid easy through an edgeless tube
|
| From the first lips
|
| Then all lips after waiting to be told |