| Aaahhhhh
|
| aaaahhhhaaa
|
| aaaah
|
| You’re feelin old
|
| Its 1 o clock on a friday morning
|
| I’m trying to keep my back from the wall
|
| The prophets and their bombs have had another success
|
| And i’m wondering why we bother at all
|
| And i think of you on cold winter mornings
|
| Darling they remind me of when we were at school
|
| Nothing really mattered when you called out my name
|
| In fact, nothing really mattered at all
|
| And i think about how long it will take them to blow us away
|
| But i won’t get me down, I’m just thankful to be facing the day
|
| Cos days don’t get you far when you’re gone
|
| It’s five o clock on a Friday morning
|
| one hundred telephones shake and ring
|
| And one of them is from someone who knew you…
|
| And i still think of you on cold winter mornings
|
| Darling they’ll still remind me of when we were at school
|
| When they could never have persuaded me that lives like yours
|
| were the hands of these eronious fools
|
| And to those of you who moan your lives through one day to the next
|
| Well let them take you next
|
| Cos you live and be thankful you’re here
|
| See it could be you tomorrow next year |