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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
so typical - a battle of wits and i've come half prepared i know all the ropes but i haven't a hope of pulling you back to me i'm losing my grip and sailing this ship from barstool to borstal and back you made me feel i was born again it's a shame i never grew up again i'm a boy at sea and i'm stowaway scared scared that my friends see the man amongst the many now bottle scars are all that I have to show to the boys back home who'd said that to plead was a sign of the weak and to fight was a sign of the strong just fair-weather words from four-letter friends but i found out the four-letter way you made me feel i was born again it's a shame i never grew up again i'm a boy at sea and i'm stowaway scared scared that my friends see the man amongst the many and now i've swallowed my pride i promise you i couldn't eat another word i'll count to three then i sail to sea i just got to eight when you started to say i'll bid you farewell i'm going, going, gone |