Pretty Good Year - Music Box Mania

Tears on the sleeve of a man

Don’t want to be a boy today

I 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

Well, hold onto nothing

As fast as you can

Well, still pretty good year

Ah, pretty good

Maybe a bright sandy beach

Is going to bring you back, back, back

Maybe not so now you’re off

You’re going to see America

Well, let me tell you something about America

Pretty good year

Ah, pretty good

Some things are melting now

Some things are melting now well

Hey

What’s it going to take till my baby’s all right?

What’s it going to take till my baby’s all right?

Ah

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

Well, still pretty good year

Ah, pretty good

Ah, pretty good year