Buddy Bradley

This is not a good day to call me

Because I cannot spare some sympathy

My own feelin' is mostly unclear

And when I'm talkin' to you I'm not here

I don't think I'll ever be ready for you

But I'll be tryin' to help you out too

So I went downstairs for a walk

But I had no strength to not talk

Yes, you were the flatulent one

And I am the boy who has a gun

You ran into me with such force

Now all I can be is Buddy Bradley

And all of her friends have been approved by them

And all I can hear is people singin'

Now two of a kind has come across my mind

Where forever more is painted on her door

Just cancel the Sunday salon

And bury the grave digger's son

No money could last for too long

Nobody could pay for this song

And all of her friends have been approved by them

And all I can hear is people singin'

Now two of a kind has come across my mind

Where forever more is painted on her door

Yes, you were the flatulent one

And I am the boy who has a gun

You ran into me with such force

Now all I can be is Buddy Bradley