Things I've been telling myself for years I can read people, yeah Blushing peccadillos, twisted bents, and buried fears Things I've been telling myself for years I'm the dashboard hula girl of nodding self-deception Here's to never accepting slight adjustment or correction Here's to a doting mother's voice assisting me in every choice Saying: Chorister, binman, or barrister? So lucky, son, to have you Here's to walking in every room like ascending for an Oscar Kissing hands and shaking babies, Blackpool rock imposter A cannon loosed, a golden goose Leo, sayer of the unsaid sooths I'll fix you with a cosmic stare I'll fix your life, go fix your hair, I dare you Of course, I'll live to ninety-six and fix the welfare state I'll build a house with these two hands, my face above the gate I haven't paid for cabs or beers or met a cunt in twenty years Like all that outrun poverty, all I have was coming to me Things I've been telling myself for years All of these things I've been telling myself for years Things I've been telling myself for years