Poor Me — текст песни (Swingin` Utters)

I`d rest on my laurels
let some keen wit
and crying awful pity sustain me
But my memories leak like a sieve
And fuel this fire
It`s deep and heavy roar defies me

Let`s not talk in vain about the weather
Let`s take my tired soul off of it`s tether

Poor me
Poor me

I can`t reach the ends of this
But if I didn`t
It would be the end of me
I need to feen infatuation
Stoke the coals
of curiosity and longing

Let`s not talk in vain about the weather
Let`s take my tired soul of it`s tether

I need the glory
with lights aglow around me
My halo shining brightly
in tribute to myself
No, I can`t have pity on me
So tell me another story
And I`ll accept gladly
and thank you for the help

Poor me, Poor me