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Well we're hereWe're at the common againSmoked six of the ten fags thatI only bought an hour agoSaid well II like the look of your shoesI like the way that your face looks whenI'm arguing with youAnd so when, when we all grow oldI hope this song will remind you thatI'm not half as bad as bad as whatYou've been toldAnd when I knockAt one hundred and twoAnd I see your pyjamasI can't stop smiling at youAnd that's why whenWe're at the common againI've been pouring my heart outTowards your optimistic grinSaid well I, II like the cut of your jibI like the way that your face looksWhen you're yapping on about himBut on this shirtI found your smellAnd I just sat there for agesContemplating what to do with myselfCalled you upAt one hundred and twoWe just sat there for agesTalking about that boyWhat was getting onto youYou
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