| I could be my best if I spoke my own head for you |
| You could see me now if you told yourself how you knew me |
| Oh, are you not lonely? |
| And oh, as you sit by the birch tree |
| Come to the tree, bring a birthday card for you |
| Seem a bit shocked, but crack a brief smile I notice |
| Oh, you’re not lonely |
| And oh, as we sit by the birch tree |
| As she goes in again |
| I look at my own head |
| Back from the blue, I know it’s nothing new |
| I know we’re pretty young but I see what people grow into |
| 'Cause two years ahead I can see that you might not know me |
| Oh, I could be lonely |
| And oh, as I sit by the bitch tree |
| As she goes in again |
| I look at my own head |
| Back from the blue, I know it’s nothing new |
| I could be my best if I spoke my own head for you |
| You could see me now if you told yourself how you knew me |
| Oh, are you not lonely? |
| And oh, as you sit by the birch tree |
| As she goes in again |
| I look at my own head |
| Back from the blue, I know it’s nothing new |
| Is it a good or bad thing? |
| That she doesn’t give me anything |
| Is it a good or bad thing? |
| That she doesn’t give me anything |
| Is it a good or bad thing? |
| That she doesn’t give me anything |