|
John |
|
The distance of time is stuck |
|
And when the sharp ****s play |
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I could be with you today |
|
So John |
|
I hung all the songs |
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But I'm miles from the smiles |
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And I've nowhere to sleep |
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If I don't grow old |
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I can't become an antique |
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So i just stay a freak |
|
For someone to keep |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the thorns they wear in their crown |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the words buried deep in the ground |
|
And they're not to be found |
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And they don't make a sound |
|
They sing: ooh, ooh, ooh |
|
Bill |
|
I used to write words to you |
|
But the you in the songs |
|
Are the ones who have gone |
|
So Bill |
|
Try recalling the best of times |
|
And the ghost on the bus |
|
Is the sadness of dust |
|
And the kids at the club |
|
Are all sitting in pubs |
|
Still looking for love |
|
As if that was enough |
|
And these are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the thorns I wear in my crown |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the words buried deep in the ground |
|
Not to be found |
|
They don't make a sound |
|
They sing: ooh, ooh, ooh |
|
I |
|
I'm sad from this fog of friends |
|
We fell down in the night |
|
Record shop by day |
|
And Brent |
|
He don't surf anymore |
|
But you drown so slow |
|
With nowhere to go |
|
If you're ****ed, it's all right |
|
It's Saturday night |
|
And you are alive |
|
And you are all right! |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the thorns I wear in my crown |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the things buried deep in the ground |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the words buried deep in the ground |
|
These are the days I forgot to write down |
|
These are the words buried deep in the ground |
|
They don't make a sound |
|
They don't bring you down |
