This old man he really gets my goat
Something in the way he does his thing
Whenever he’s around i’m in misery
can’t put a foot wrong without feeling cheated

whispers of a bake-off only just reached me
by the time i get to auckland i’ll be over it
how many suns do you need to make a day
won’t let the sun call me impoverished

he gets my goat he really gets my goat
dunno how he does it, but he does it in spades
I am not afraid, i’m just cryin in the shade
languishing in the shadow of his shade

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