Pretty Good Year
Tears on the sleeve of a man, don't wanna be a boy todayHeard the eternal footman bought himself a bike to raceAnd Greg he writes letters and burns his CDsThey say you were something in those formative yearsHold onto nothing as fast as you can
Well, still pretty good yearPretty good
Maybe a bright sandy beachIs gonna bring you back, back, backMaybe not so now you're offYou're gonna see AmericaWell, let me tell you something about America
Pretty good yearPretty good
Some things are melting nowSome things are melting nowWell, what's it gonna takeTill my baby's all rightWhat's it gonna takeTill my baby's all right
And Greg he writes lettersWith his birthday penSometimes he's aware that they're drawing him inBut Lucy was prettyYour best friend agreed
Well, still pretty good yearPretty goodPretty good year