Lyrics Letters To Cleo – Get On With It
Text:
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
