Well we’re here We’re at the common again Smoked 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 arguing 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
And when I knock At one hundred and two And I see your pyjamas I can’t stop smiling at you
And that’s why when We’re at the common again I’ve been pouring my heart out Towards your optimistic grin
Said well I, I I like the cut of your jib I like the way that your face looks When you’re yapping on about him
But on this shirt I found your smell And I just sat there for ages Contemplating what to do with myself
Called you up At one hundred and two We just sat there for ages Talking about that boy What was getting onto you YouTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
