She is only trying on a leafy crown She's looking in the mirror And kind gla** knows her too well 'Dig deep' she's told Ah well, no gold And let's drink soup to misfortune Her complete faith is eager to serve as her mirror Where she wants to be In one small step nearer She'll soup her mirror She's souped her mirror Now that's what I call a story It's not your fault That we want to go home at the end of every street There you go my son Thank you you're welcome There you go my son Thank you you're welcome There you go my son Thank you you're welcome