Get on With It by Letters To Cleo Lyrics

The Sunday Paper is a mess
And I'm not gonna pick it up, you are
If I could just get on with it
It don't matter my hair's a mess
Cause you're not gonna
Fix it up for me, I am

If I could just get on with it
I would take a breath
Outside myself
A stranger place I couldn't find
And no one knows who I am
And you can't say my name

Can't think of anything else worse
'Cause if I didn't fuck it up
You would
Why can't you just do something right

Just once change my mind cause if you can
I'd be the one you know I am
But you're so blind, you always were
I didn't catch your name
I would take abreath outside myself
A stranger place I couldn't find
And no one knows who I am
And you can't say my name