Texty: Bows. Big Wings.

I could see myself at twenty-eight
What do you think of me now?
To hell with big wings, heaven can wait
I won't be, I won't be checking out

Torn between big love and hate
A passion whichever way round
Could have been, could have been
Good intentions run aground

I am, I'm truly young but I feel so old
'Cause the gage is good as gold
Plump and pearly? It's way too early
Slim and surly is clearly divine