102

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