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 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

And 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

I said well I, I

I like the cut of your jib

I like the way that your face looks

When you're yappin' on about him

But on this shirt

Well 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

Talkin' about that boy what

Was gettin' on to you

You, you, you