I can read people, yeah
Blushing peccadillos, twisted bents, and buried fears
Things I've been telling myself for years
I'm the dashboard hula girl of nodding self-deception
Here's to never accepting slight adjustment or correction
Here's to a doting mother's voice assisting me in every choice
Saying, "Chorister, binman, or barrister?
So lucky, son, to have you"
Here's to walking in evеry room like ascending for an Oscar
Kissing hands and shaking babies, Blackpool rock impostеr
A cannon loosed, a golden goose
Leo, sayer of the unsaid sooths
I'll fix you with a cosmic stare
I'll fix your life, go fix your hair, I dare you
Of course, I'll live to ninety-six and fix the welfare state
I'll build a house with these two hands, my face above the gate
I haven't paid for cabs or beers or met a cunt in twenty years
Like all that outrun poverty, all I have was coming to me
Things I've been telling myself for years
All of these things I've been telling myself for years
Things I've been telling myself for years
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