Spit It All Out

I meant every word I said

But only said half the words I meant

There's a load more where they came from

I suppose will get left unsent

Like conversation started

but don't know which way it went

Lips don't miss the wish for a kiss,

And time doesn't care how its spent

And the only way a white lie shows

Is the length of the gap between truths

Imprison any feeling usually displayed

And they wave white sheets from roofs

Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right

So it was simplifed to one great fib

Anyone else who couldn't put it into words

Just got their lips round good sex or a cig

So if you finally spit it all out

Make sure you're wearing a bib

And I suspect those described as driven

Are usually driven by their mum or their dad

And motivation something you work on

If you cant spell properly or add

And if self-belief is something you started

Its probably in a book I once had

Self-belief the first target of thief

The last thing on the mind of the mad

And when it comes to your final speech

And as usual the cats got your tongue

Be glad we're living in a world struck dumb

Where the fat lady hasn't yet sung

Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right

So it was simplified to one great fib

Anyone else who couldn't put it into words

Just got their lips round good sex or a cig

So if you finally spit it all out

Make sure you're wearing a bib

From where I'm sat, the lady's not fat

She's skinny with just the one lung

And the send-off planned the thirty-piece band

Have been sacked and probably hung

And anyone here who's a 'not sure'

Got here but how they forgot

And anyone dared ask a 'what for?'

Will get what for on the spot

So if you finally spit it all out

Make sure you're out of your cot