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I'm counting all the steps right back to you |
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Little twig, you are a figment of me |
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Or is it you? |
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Your bicycle makes trouble for us all |
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You got no brakes, yeah, you got the shakes |
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And little boys, well, they drop their toys |
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When you fly past, yes, they do |
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The art of living well is not just choice |
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It's down to luck and who you trust |
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Oh little twig, you do trust well |
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Yeah, you do trust well |
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Yeah, you do trust well |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Seagulls on the roof have kept me wide |
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Awake and pale in case |
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I fail To sleep again, to dream of you |
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To take my turn on some thing new |
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Mudguard in a flap and chain is slack |
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Oh little twig, you rattle past |
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Like a can of nails on an angel's tail |
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Yes, you do, yes, you do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Do, do, do, do, do, do, do |
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Sunday morning papers say you failed |
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To make it through, oh little twig |
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Can this be true? |
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Can this be true? |
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Can this be true? |
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Can this be true? |
