| Well I know you don’t know the reason
|
| And it’s cold, a sign of the season
|
| 'Cause you’re old, and battered and beaten
|
| And we’ll grow, 'til we hit the ceiling, yeah
|
| Well I’ll be better, get away
|
| Send a letter, bombs away
|
| You’re covered in my skin
|
| I couldn’t imagine anyone else
|
| I’m off for the weekend
|
| I couldn’t imagine why you would save yourself
|
| Well it’s gone and it’s not returning
|
| And your clothes and pictures are burning
|
| 'Cause you’re old, and battered and beaten
|
| And we’ll grow, til we hit the ceiling, yeah
|
| Well I’ll be better, get away
|
| Send a letter, bombs away
|
| You’re covered in my skin
|
| I couldn’t imagine anyone else
|
| I’m off for the weekend
|
| I couldn’t imagine why you would save yourself
|
| Well I’ll be better, get away
|
| Send a letter, bombs away
|
| You’re covered in my skin
|
| I couldn’t imagine anyone else
|
| I’m off for the weekend
|
| I couldn’t imagine anyone else
|
| You’re covered in my skin
|
| I couldn’t imagine anyone else
|
| I’m off for the weekend
|
| I couldn’t imagine why you would save yourself |