In 1981 i was minus two,
Dreaming of the things i was gonna do.
When i got up the nerve,
To exit out the womb,
I'd open up my mouth,
And i'd be singing to the room

La la la, la la la, la la la, la la la.
La. la la la, la la la.

And every single day,
Until a day last week,
When i closed my eyes i would be singing in my sleep,
Picture-perfect songs for all the world to keep.
But when i raised my head i thought i'd never sing 'la, la la la la la la la."

And now the day is over just as it begun.
So let's all sing the song for things that we have done,
And things we haven't done.

In 1991 when i was only eight
My father sat me down and said "someday,
You will write a song, a song so great,
It will save the lone star state,
So here's a tape recorder, here's a microphone
Chronicle the songs you sing when you're alone.
And thank the lord above for the gift he's bestowed.
Now open up your mouth and sign until you're old 'la la la, la la la'"

But expectations are so high,
And so i never go outside.
I sit inside, my room.
I write a song and hit record,
On a portastudio 424 it's true, it's all i do.

In twenty zero six, i am twenty two,
Dreaming of the things i am gonna do.
When i get up the nerve, to exit out the room.
I'll open up my mouth and i'll be singing to you:

"la, la la la, la la la, la la la.
La, la la la, la la
La, la la la, la la la, la la la.
La, la la la, la la
La, la la la, la-la-la-la-la-la-la la
La la la ... ah i give up!"