Lyrics: Ellen Fitzgibbon
Music: Ellen Fitzgibbon
Everyone I know has got the same ideas
On another tour of the glory years
Oh I’m sick of everybody
Won’t make it to the party
One more conversation I’m just drifting through
And you’re saying it’s the best we’ll ever do
Oh I’m sick of everybody
Won’t make it to the party
Won’t make it to the party
Yeah right
Like I’d ever fall for your lines
Yeah right
Hanging round like clothes that won’t dry
Yeah right
Yeah right
Feels we’ve been growing towards a different sun
Maybe that’s what time looks like
I’m someone new now
Oh I’m sick of everybody
Won’t make it to the party
Won’t make it to the party
Yeah right
Like I’d ever fall for your lines
Yeah right
Hanging round like clothes that won’t dry
Yeah right
Yeah right
Yeah right
In between I know that in believing there’s a peace of mind
I’m half made and holding out a hope that I’m some other kind
In between I know that in believing there's a piece that fits
All of us are holding onto something, is this it?
Yeah right
Like I’d ever fall for your lines
Yeah right
Everybody changes, that’s life
Yeah right
Yeah right
Yeah right