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• Artiste: Triffids (The)
• Titre: Pack Up Your Troubles
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Too late to call, I walk the floor Reheat the food I didn't touch the night before The TV's on, but not for long I'm not the good old boy you knew no, you got a different one Pack up your troubles and give them all to me That way you could lose them, I know how to use them So give them all to me I see you still, I hear your voice My plane is circling high above your clouds You have no choice Your map is torn, your voice is worn The sea breeze is in, the sunlight's thin so let's go someplace warn Seems nobody says what the mean anymore But that's not important to me I just walk straight through your door Too close to call, this match is drawn You've won the car, it's waiting on the showroom floor For goodness' sake, clean up your face Well you should know by now ... We're close enough... there's no disgrace... Pack up your troubles and give them all to me That way you could lose them, I know how to use them So give them all to me