After sweet Thomas J. There's been a new boy over to play
I find him a little dark, but my daddy says he's smart.
He's wrote a song or two about what his parents do,
a Guinness girl and a boy named Jack.
For poetry, he has the knack.
We climbed the rooftop that night.
Kept watch for satellites passing by.
Skin was as cold as ice, and pale like he'd had a fright,
I guessed it was the height.
His boots were falling apart, little did i know he'd the same state of heart.
Like me, he'd suffered loss, fucking love and its only clause.
For me it was the bees.
For him a gigantic sea between him and his misery.
The reason his heart used to beat,
now the reason he can't sleep.