Get On With It

The Sunday Paper is a mess and

I'm not gonna pick it up you are

if I could just get on with it.

It don't matter my hair's a mess cause

you're not gonna fix it up for me,

I am

if I could just get on with it

I would take a breath

outside myself

a stranger place

I couldn't find

and no one knows who I am

and you can't say my name.

Can't think of anything else worse

cause if I didn't fuck it up

you would

why can't you just do something right.

Just once change my mind

cause if you can

I'd be the one

you know I am

but you're so blind,

you always were

I didn't catch your name.

I would take a breath

outside myself

a stranger place

I couldn't find

and no one knows who I am

and you can't say my name.