Bluebell - 02:34
							
I thought I'd want the room to cheer,
my name up on the wall.
Funny, when it happened,
I just wanted you to call.

It's not good news till I tell you.
Guess who I called.
Before the lift hit the ground floor you. 
Of course.

Got the job. Missed the train.
Let it leave without me.
Had a whole speech in my head.
You just said, “I'm proud.”
Walked straight past my turning.
Took the long way round.

I thought I'd want the room to cheer,
my name up on the wall.
Funny, when it happened,
I just wanted you to call.

It's not good news till I tell you.
I can never keep it in.
You're already saying, “What is it?”
You can hear me trying not to grin.
Let them have the polished version—
you get me before I fix it.

You first. You first.
With my words all in a mess.
You first. You first.
You can probably guess.

You knew me in the box-room days,
wearing socks to bed.
Bluebells by the broken gate;
you'd count them while I read.
Now there's heating in the hallway.
You still steal my sleeves.

I've changed my mind on everything—
the work, the town, the flat.
But something good can happen,
and my thumb knows where you're at.

It's not good news till I tell you.
I can never keep it in.
You're already saying, “What is it?”
You can hear me trying not to grin.
Let them have the polished version—
you get me before I fix it.

And on the days there's nothing,
when the clever answers go,
I ring you from the landing.
You say, “Come in. It's cold.”

You don't ask what I've managed.
You move your coat for mine.
I was halfway through explaining.
You pull me close. Never mind.

It's not good news till I tell you.
You're the first one, every time.
Even when there's no good news,
you're still who I tell.

Bluebells by the broken gate.
I sent a picture through.
Didn't have a thing to say.
Just thought you'd like the view.

 * somi