Polly Scattergood Follow

My soldier and other things that went away in time, on a Sunday afternoon
it didn't mean that much to him, I had just turned sixteen, moved up to the city
you had just turned nineteen, sent away to fight
so who's the big hard man now? So beautifully broken

It takes a bit of time to reflect so honestly
I don't know why I wonder if you're doing okay
it's not as if I need you and it's not as if you're lost
it's not like I'm some loser clinging to some letters

Trying to understand how to feel so many words
See, I'm doing good, I'm delicately broken

My soldier and other things
My soldier and other things
My soldier and other things
that went away in time