Little Twig

Counting all my steps right back to you Little twig You are a fig- -ment of me Or is it you? Or is it you? Your bicycle makes trouble for us all. You've got no brakes. Yeah, you've got the shakes And little boys, Well, they drop their toys, When you fly past, oh, yes they do The art of living well is not just choice Comes down to luck... And who you trust Oh, little twig You do trust well Yeah, you do trust well Yeah, you do just well Do do do do do do Do do do do Do do do... do do do do Seagulls on the roof have kept me wide Awake and pale In case I fail To sleep again To dream of you To take my turn on something new. Mudguard in the flap, chain is slack Little twig, you rattle past Like a can of nails on an angel's tail Yes, you do! Yes, you do! Sunday morning paper says you've failed To make it through, Oh, little twig Could this be true? Could this be true? Could this be true? Could this be true?