My, my what a mess we've made of our pretty little heads these days.
It appears a heavy wind's blown through here recently.
Best wishes have been made for you, you never had no say it's true.
You have to be the cutest gravedigger I've ever seen.
And all your lonely nights in the city of lights are much like
all these crowded bars I so often find my stupid self stumbling through.
My, my what a mess was made of my head
when I heard what you'd been through that day
It appears a violent storm's passed through you recently.
Letters meant to be sent have been torn.
The phone lies off the hook, on the floor.
All these
|