I meant every word I said
|
But only said half the words I meant
|
There's a load more where they came from
|
I suppose will get left unsent
|
Like conversation started
|
but don't know which way it went
|
Lips don't miss the wish for a kiss,
|
And time doesn't care how its spent
|
|
And the only way a white lie shows
|
Is the length of the gap between truths
|
Imprison any feeling usually displayed
|
And they wave white sheets from roofs
|
|
Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right
|
So it was simplifed to one great fib
|
Anyone else who couldn't put it into words
|
Just got their lips round good sex or a cig
|
So if you finally spit it all out
|
Make sure you're wearing a bib
|
|
And I suspect those described as driven
|
Are usually driven by their mum or their dad
|
And motivation something you work on
|
If you cant spell properly or add
|
And if self-belief is something you started
|
Its probably in a book I once had
|
Self-belief the first target of thief
|
The last thing on the mind of the mad
|
|
And when it comes to your final speech
|
And as usual the cats got your tongue
|
Be glad we're living in a world struck dumb
|
Where the fat lady hasn't yet sung
|
|
Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right
|
So it was simplified to one great fib
|
Anyone else who couldn't put it into words
|
Just got their lips round good sex or a cig
|
So if you finally spit it all out
|
Make sure you're wearing a bib
|
|
From where I'm sat, the lady's not fat
|
She's skinny with just the one lung
|
And the send-off planned the thirty-piece band
|
Have been sacked and probably hung
|
|
And anyone here who's a 'not sure'
|
Got here but how they forgot
|
And anyone dared ask a 'what for?'
|
Will get what for on the spot
|
So if you finally spit it all out
|
Make sure you're out of your cot
|
|
-----------------
|
Spit It All Out
|
| The Beautiful South |
