Tears on the sleeve of a man Don't wanna be a boy today Heard the eternal footman Bought himself a bike to race And Greg he writes letters And burns his CDs They say you were something In those formative years Hold onto nothing As fast as you can Well still Pretty good year Aha, pretty good ♪ Maybe a bright sandy beach Is going to bring you back, back, back May not so now you're off You're gonna see America Well let me tell you something About America ♪ Pretty good year Aha, pretty good ♪ Some things are Melting now Some things are Melting now Well hey eh What's it gonna take Till my baby's alright What's it gonna take Till my baby's alright ♪ And Greg he writes letters With his birthday pen Sometimes he's aware That they're drawing him in Lucy was pretty Your best friend agreed Well still Pretty good year Aha, pretty good Aha, pretty good year