| For a while you were the cat that got the cream
|
| So wide eyed and full of curiosity
|
| Oh, I wonder when it changed
|
| I thought we had it made
|
| Perhaps the cream was just too sweet
|
| For you to savour it
|
| For a while you saw the wood there for the trees
|
| So full of life and everything was such a breeze
|
| Oh, I wonder when it changed
|
| All your colours turned to grey
|
| Perhaps the trees they grew too big
|
| For you to really see
|
| You said, «It's not you, it’s me
|
| I’m scared of pulling you under»
|
| I said, «It's just a blip
|
| Put your head on my shoulder»
|
| Contrary to the popular blief
|
| Boys can cry, does that serv as a relief?
|
| There’s no use hiding it away
|
| Only hanging on good days
|
| Surely by now it’s clear that I’ll be here
|
| Through anything
|
| You said, «It's not you, it’s me
|
| I’m scared of pulling you under
|
| It’s just a blip
|
| Put your head on my shoulder»
|
| «It's not you, it’s me
|
| I’m scared of pulling you under
|
| It’s just a blip
|
| Put your head on my shoulder»
|
| For a while you saw
|
| The wood there for the trees
|
| For a while your pride
|
| It served as a relief
|
| For a while you were
|
| The cat that got the cream
|
| Perhaps the cream was just too sweet for you to savour it |