The Eagles - Get Over It |
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Get Over It
The Eagles I turn on the tube and what do I see They point their crooked little fingers at everbody else A whole lotta people cryin' "Don't blame me" spend all their time feelin' sorry for themselves Your momma's too thin; your daddy's too fat Victim of this, victim of that All this whinin' and cryin' and pitchin' a fit Get over it Get over it Get over it, get over it The more I think about it, Old Billy was right But you might feel better if they gave you some cash You say you haven't been the same since you had your little crash You don't want to work; you want to live like a king Let's kill all the lawyers But the big, bad world doesn't owe you a thing Get over it Get over it If you don't want to play, then you might as well split Get over it, get over it It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak Some call it sick, but I call it weak You're makin' the most of your losin' streak You drag it around like a ball and chain You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down Complain about the present and blame it on the past I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little ass Get over it Get over it All this bitchin' and moanin' and pitchin' a fit Get over it, get over it Get over it Get over it It's gotta stop sometime, so why don't you quit Get over it, get over it Get over it |
