Compositor: Não Disponível
I'm being held at the end of a tether,
at the edge of out yard . . . stretching away.
The work keeps going on
but I've had enough but I am getting over these intercoms.
She said, "I dont call them back
and never seem afterward to look as good as I did.
I guess they're not interested.
Is it a wonder I'm reluctant?
Is it some mere intrigue that brings them forward?"
It's not as if they have to stay, they're not doing me any favours.
I've had enough, they're not doing me any favours.
I've had enough" She said "I don't call them back,
they never seem afterward to look as good as they did.
They're not interesting.
It's suffocating and almost shaming the way they carry on
you would think we were the one's maintaining the old world's fading.
Mum and dad can't seem to get past that I'm leaving.
I don't want to upset them but I'm leaving.