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