Spit It All Out The Beautiful South

I meant every word I said
But only said half the words I meant
There's a load more where they came from
I suppose will get left unsent
Like conversation started
But don't know which way it went
Lips don't miss the wish for a kiss
And time doesn't care how its spent

And the only way a white lie shows
Is the length of the gap between truths
Imprison any feeling usually displayed
And they wave white sheets from roofs

Pushchair to pensioner no-one said it right
So it was simplifed to one great fib
Anyone else who couldn't put it into words
Just got their lips round good sex or a cig
So if you finally spit it all out
Make sure you're wearing a bib

And I suspect those described as driven
Are usually driven by their mum or their dad
And motivation something you work on
If you can't spell properly or add
And if self-belief is something you started
Its probably in a book I once had
Self-belief the first target of thief
The last thing on the mind of the mad