Swingin Utters

Id rest on my laurels
let some keen wit
and crying awful pity sustain me
But my memories leak like a sieve
And fuel this fire
Its deep and heavy roar defies me
Lets not talk in vain about the weather
Lets take my tired soul off of its tether
Poor me
Poor me
I cant reach the ends of this
But if I didnt
It would be the end of me
I need to feen infatuation
Stoke the coals
of curiosity and longing
Lets not talk in vain about the weather
Lets take my tired soul of its tether
I need the glory
with lights aglow around me
My halo shining brightly
in tribute to myself
No, I cant have pity on me
So tell me another story
And Ill accept gladly
and thank you for the help
Poor me, Poor me
[ Poor Me Lyrics ]