Well we’re here
We’re at the common again
Smoke six of the ten fags that
I only bought an hour ago
Said well I
I like the look of your shoes
I like the way that your face looks when
I’m arguin’ with you
And so when
When we all grow old
I hope this song will remind you that I’m not
Half as bad as what
You’ve been told
When I knock
At a hundred and two
And I see your pajamas
I can’t stop smiling at you
And that’s why we’re here
We’re at the common again
I been pouring my heart out
Towards your optimistic grin
I said well I, I, I
Like the cut of your jib
And I like the way that your face looks
When you’re yappin’ on about him
I put on this shirt
And I found your smell
And I just sat there for ages
Contemplating what to do
With myself
And I called you up
At a hundred and two
We just sat there for ages
Talkin’ bout that boy what
Was gettin’ on to you
You, you, you