Tears on the sleeve of a man
Don't wanna be a boy today
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
Hold onto nothing
As fast as you can

Well still pretty good year

Maybe a bright sandy beach

Is going to bring you back
May not so now you're off
You're gonna see America

Well let me tell you something about america
Pretty good year
Some things are melting now

Well what's it gonna take
Till my baby's alright


And Greg he writes letters with his birthday pen
Sometimes he's aware that they're drawing him in
Lucy was pretty

Your best friend agreed
Still Pretty good year