Pretty Good Year

Well, tears on the sleeve of a man Don't want to be a boy today I heard the eternal footman Bought himself a bike to race And Greg, he writes letters and burns his CDs They say you were something in those formative years So, hold on nothing as fast as you can Well still, a pretty good year A pretty good year Ah, pretty good year Well, still Maybe the bright sandy beach Is gonna bring you back, back, back Maybe not, so now you're off Off to see America Well still, ah, pretty good year Ah, pretty good Some things are melting now Some, some things are melting now Pretty good year Ah, pretty good year Well still, petty good year Ah, pretty good Greg, he writes letters with his birthday pen Sometimes, he's aware they're drawing him in Lucy was pretty, your best friend agreed Still, a pretty good year Ah, a pretty good year Well still, a pretty good year Ah, pretty good