Из альбома: Living In The Past

Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing,
oo, my, my, my,
oo, my, my, my.

Went down to the station to look for her there,
looked through the crowds for a glimpse of her hair,
nothing to see but the crowds keep a-staring at me,
my, my,
oo, my, my, my.

Down in the street, try'n' to remember,
shuffling my feet outside a menswear,
is that her in the fur coat?
No it's not December yet,
my, my, my,
oo, my, my, my.

Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.

Back to the house, maybe she'll phone me,
singing my song, feeling so lonely.
I'll sing very softly, so if the phone rings
I can hear it, I can hear it.

Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing.
Singing all day, singing `bout nothing,
oo, my, my, my,
oo, my, my, my.

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