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