The Sundays - My Finest Hour | Текст песни

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• The Sundays
• My Finest Hour

When the world, it shows me up
my clothes, they show me up
I never knew this before
The finest hour that I’ve ever known
was finding a pound on the Underground
When my words came stumbling out
then I went tumbling out
I’ve never been hit before
The finest hour that I’ve ever known
was finding a pound on the Underground
And I keep hoping you are the same as me
and I’ll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are, what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go home
When the words came stumbling out of my mouth and I went tumbling out (here, no, no, no, no)
But I keep hoping you are the same as me
and I’ll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are, what do the others know? but poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go
oh, I'm going home
But I’ll keep hoping you are the only one
yes, and I’ll send you letters
oh, wouldn't it be such fun?
Oh, we are who we are, whatever the others say
but poetry is not for me, as much as I'd like to stay
oh, I just want to go home
You're, you're, you're too young
should've been you, you're, you're too young
It should've been you too, you're too, you're too young it should've been, you, you, you're too young
you should've been safe here
Bribed the judge and then sat down
oh, you're, you're, you're too young

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