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
When I knock
At a hundred and two
And I see your pyjamas
I can't stop smiling at you
And that's why we're here
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
I button this shirt
I found your smell
And 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 onto you
You