There's a portrait   In a back room,   Which I keep for days upon, which I relent   And gaze for hours on the muscle skin and bone of some   Imaginary friend.      So how about it?   Show me please how I will look in twenty years   And let me please,   Interpret history in every line and scar that's painted   There in front of me.      It doesn't matter what I'm thinking   What I tell myself to do   I'll end up calling.      I stay in to defrost the fridge   Now the kid has gone to bed   A feeling of dread.   At least when she's around the troubles there,   It's worse to wake up with her falling round the room.      Listen Johnny; you're like a mother   To the girl you've fallen for,   And you're still falling.      Listen Johnny;   You're like a mother to the girl you've fallen for,   And you're still falling,   And if she come tonight   You'll roll up tight and take whatever's coming to you now.