From all accounts, it would appear,
That you would be the sticking plaster
And I the wound,
But actually it's wrong around
It's them that's hurt it's them that's bound,
Its them that get hurt,
Its them that get hurt,
So much more than me,
In the end.
From all reports, you could assume,
That you would be the architect
And I the cold blue line
But actually you would be wrong,
And I won't write another song,
It's me you draw you're writing on,
The cold correction that goes on,
So much more this year.
John Keats John Keats John Keats John please put a scarf on.