Get On With It - Letters To Cleo

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 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