Texty: The Bluetones. The Favorite Son.

Sleep little baby, i feel you breathing on my arms,
Sleep little baby, oh yeah, when you wake well your daddy'll be gone.

Look at our time,
it's falling away,
Falling away and it's a shame but it's true.
The days of are lives are,
but leaves in the wind,
collected and binned,
always replaced in the grand scheme of things,
just as the fall turns to winter, turns to spring.

The glint in your eyes,
grows brighter with time,
at least brighter than mine,
and it's a shame but it's true.
With you at my side i'll, face it again,
smile from the train, and watch the world go whistling by without a care,
lie back with you and put my feet up on the chair.
My favorite son, i'm wrapped and i'm done, but something has died,
Impossible child, within and reviled,
come along for the ride.

Look at our time,
it's falling away,
Falling away and it's a shame but it's true.
The days of are lives are,
but leaves in the wind,
collected and binned,
always replaced in the grand scheme of things,
just as the fall turns to winter, turns to spring.
My favorite son, i'm wrapped and i'm done, but something has died,
Impossible child, within and reviled,
come along for the ride.
But something has died.