| 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 | |
| Pretty good | |
| Maybe a bright sandy beach | |
| Is gonna bring you back, back, back | |
| May not so now you're off | |
| You're gonna see America | |
| Well, let me tell you something about America | |
| Pretty good year | |
| Pretty good | |
| Some things are melting now | |
| Some things are melting now | |
| Well, what's it gonna take | |
| Till my baby's alright | |
| 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 | |
| But Lucy was pretty | |
| Your best friend agreed | |
| Well, still pretty good year | |
| Pretty good | |
| Pretty good year |
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