There's a portrait
In a back room,
Which I keep for days upon, which I relent

And gaze for hours on the muscle skin and bone of some
Imaginary friend.


So how about it?
Show me please how I will look in twenty years
And let me please,

Interpret history in every line and scar that's painted
There in front of me.


It doesn't matter what I'm thinking
What I tell myself to do
I'll end up calling.


I stay in to defrost the fridge
Now the kid has gone to bed

A feeling of dread.
At least when she's around the troubles there,
It's worse to wake up with her falling round the room.


Listen Johnny; you're like a mother
To the girl you've fallen for,

And you're still falling.

Listen Johnny;

You're like a mother to the girl you've fallen for,
And you're still falling,
And if they come tonight

You'll roll up tight and take whatever's coming to you next.