Little Twig

I’m counting all the steps right back to you
Little twig, you are a fig
Ment of me
Or is it you
Your bicycle makes trouble for us all
Got no brakes
You got the shakes
And little boys well they drop their toys
When you fly past. yes they do
The art of living well is not just choice
It’s down to luck and often who you. Trust
Oh little twig you do trust well
You do trust well
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 some thing new
Mudguard in a flap and chain is slack
Tyres are flat
Oh little twig you rattle past
Like a can of nails on an angels tail
Yes you do
Sunday morning papers say you failed
To make it through
Oh little twig
Can this be true?
Can this be true?
Can this be true?