phil. 1:21

For the sorries, oh the sorries of your soul
They are the worries, are the worries of my household
I hear the wind a howlin' at my swinging door
But at your house the weather's pleasant, nothing more

I am behind, I am behind
Oh nevermind, I will not pine for I am mine

Oh the time is near for you to romance every boy
While I am still a learnin' how I should be coy
And you decided you would educate me
While conversing over a nice spot a tea

I am behind, I am behind
Oh nevermind, I will not pine for I am mine

And the flowerpots are blooming full of golds
Tiny lovely little shiny marigolds
And I suppose that I will never be exposed
To the love that blooms between those who chose

I am behind, I am behind
Oh nevermind, I will not pine for I am mine...