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    I'm getting too old for this young man's game,
    As soon as i settle people change.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.

    So you come home
    And look around your room
    At your superman comic collection.
    "why can't i fly?", you say.
    And you think about
    Where all of this is going.
    Why couldn't you be a hero?
    Well, being a hero's easy in a way.

    And you're angry that
    You've only got two words
    That you ever type into google:
    "free porn" and that's it, nothing else.
    And you're so sick of
    Pathetically quitting smoking
    'cause you're scared it'll dent your lifespan.
    Quicksand, that's all smoking is,
    You can't help yourself.

    And you're broke too
    'cause you always waste your money,
    Like on that stupid mandolin
    Still sitting in the corner opposite me.
    So you lay down
    On your bed and try to sleep,
    But you can't even do that 'cause you've got
    Some obsessive compulsive
    Thing where you pray for your family.

    And you're running out of friends to lose,
    There's something wrong with you boy,
    You make them leave, you're harsh.
    So give up and give in to being human.
    Like you gave in to smoking,
    How you loved that rollie in your mouth at last.

    I'm getting too old for this young man's game,
    As soon as i settle people change.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.

    And you sit there
    With cups of piss in your bedroom
    'cause you figure you'll be gone soon
    So you don't use the toilet anymore.
    And your mother,
    She's having a nervous breakdown
    And the fault is all just yours,
    You call her names until she sleeps,
    "goodnight mum you're a whore".

    And you're dreaming
    Of marrying jessica whats-her-face.
    Well maybe you will and maybe you won't
    But you've gotta deal with now, right now.
    And your brother
    Yeah i can tell he hates you,
    'cause even on his birthday
    You somehow managed to cause a row.

    You treat
    The people that you meet
    Just like you treat guitars:
    You use them, be nice to them,
    Then forget them like r.e.
    And you're so mad
    That when you leave the door,
    You turn into this other guy
    And without him you're useless as can be.

    Sort yourself out please.
    I'm getting too old for this young man's game,
    As soon as i settle people change.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.
    Sort yourself out please.

    Sort yourself out please.

    (this is god. i'm stuck in a barrel.
    I've been in here for 140 years.
    Help me.)

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    Todas as letras de Cosmo Jarvis

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