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 I'm not half as bad as what you've been told
And when I knock at a hundred and two
And I see your pajamas
I can't stop smiling at you
That's why we're here, we're at the common again
I've been pouring my heart out towards your optimistic grin
I said, 'Well 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
I just sat there for ages contemplating what to do with myself
I called you up at a hundred and two
We just sat there for ages
Talking about that boy what was getting on to you
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
