Things I've been telling myself for years

I can read people, yeah
Blushing peccadillos, twisted bents, and buried fears
Things I've been telling myself for years

I'm the dashboard hula girl of nodding self-deception
Here's to never accepting slight adjustment or correction
Here's to a doting mother's voice assisting me in every choice
Saying: Chorister, binman, or barrister?
So lucky, son, to have you
Here's to walking in every room like ascending for an Oscar
Kissing hands and shaking babies, Blackpool rock imposter
A cannon loosed, a golden goose
Leo, sayer of the unsaid sooths
I'll fix you with a cosmic stare
I'll fix your life, go fix your hair, I dare you

Of course, I'll live to ninety-six and fix the welfare state
I'll build a house with these two hands, my face above the gate
I haven't paid for cabs or beers or met a cunt in twenty years
Like all that outrun poverty, all I have was coming to me

Things I've been telling myself for years
All of these things I've been telling myself for years
Things I've been telling myself for years