Tears on the sleeve of a man  Don't wanna be a boy today  Heard the eternal footman  Bought himself a bike to race  And Greg he writes letters  And burns his CDs  They say you were something in those formative years  Hold onto nothing  As fast as you can  Well still pretty good year    Maybe a bright sandy beach  Is going to bring you back  May not so now you're off  You're gonna see America  Well let me tell you something about america  Pretty good year  Some things are melting now  Well what's it gonna take  Till my baby's alright    And Greg he writes letters with his birthday pen  Sometimes he's aware that they're drawing him in  Lucy was pretty  Your best friend agreed  Still Pretty good year