The Smiths. I started something I couldn't finish

Typical me, typical me, typical me, typical me

Typical me, typical me, typical me

Hair brushed and parted typical me, typical me, typical me

Hair brushed and parted typical me, typical me, typical me

I grabbed you by guilded beams

I started something, I started something

And now eighteen months' hard labor

That was absolutely vile

The lanes were silent

There was nothing, no one, nothing around for miles

I doused our friendly venture

With a hard-faced, three-word gesture

I started something, I forced you to a zone

And you were clearly never meant to go

I started something and now I'm not too sure

I grabbed you by guilded beams

Uh, that's what tradition means

And I doused another venture with a gesture

I started something, I forced you to a zone

And you were clearly never meant to go

Hair brushed and parted typical me, typical me, typical me

I started something and now I'm not too sure

Uh, that's what tradition means

Seems fair enough

I started something and I forced you to a zone