My Finest Hour

And 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 in the underground

And my words came stumbling out

And then I went tumbling out

I've never been hit before

And the finest hour that I've ever known

Was finding a pound in the underground

And I'll 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

And the words came stumbling out of my mouth

And then I went tumbling out

But I'll 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, yeah, wouldn't it be such fun?

We are who we are, whatever the others say

But poetry is not for me and 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're, you're, you're too young

It should've been, you're too, you're too, you're too young

It should've been you, you, you're too young

You should've been safer, saner, bribed the judge and then sat down

Ooh, you're, you're, you're too young