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.
Get On With It Lyrics performed by Letters To Cleo are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Get On With It Lyrics performed by Letters To Cleo is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD