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 they come tonight You'll roll up tight and take whatever's coming to you next.