Care about the moonlight
and holding you tight
and asking my questions.
Everyone loves a situation.
Long walks on the beach.
The press will impeach.
Lately I'm finding
I am the book
and you are the binding.
I gues they'll read
everything about you.
Though the press miht shoot me
down I'm still true.
I sell my book for free.
That's what you do to me.
Oh, you are my family tree.
Be good to me
Take care of me.
Bop bop Bop bop Bop bop
Bop bop Bop bop Bop
There's hotels in the sea,
Trash in the sky,
The net-dustry's growing.
Stick to love songs kid,
that's all you're knowing.
They push you away
or tie you up.
It don't really matter.
But if your head is up
you won't get much sadder.
But who am I
to preach a word or two
when I can't even lift my own
head without you?
In my mental state
kept you from coming around
I hope the world
would shoot me down
for losing you.
A broken branch I'd be
if you weren't grown to me.
Oh, you are my family tree
Be good to me
Be good to me
Be good to me
Take care of me.
Bop bop Bop bop Bop bop
Bop bop Bop bop Bop
cked down
and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself
just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser
world of bigger motor cars
<Intelrude>
So Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him
last Saturday
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though
They're all resting down
in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual
See there! A man born