This is the wrong song,
This is the wrong army of words,
Aiming to fight for a meaning,
The wallowing end and the smiling beginning.
Tomorrow is worth twenty four hours,
What are you going to do?
I wait for you to catch a glance
From the other side of the room.
One thousand upcomings,
Compelled by the question of "What if?"
I'm gonna bathe in it
With you if you'd like,
That'd be my pick.
'Cause outside the tub,
It's really quite cold,
If I could I would take your hand.
Your love is bleeding
With heart for life,
And your posture's a music stand.
Thinking, thinking back to our days,
Waiting, waiting for you to come home again.
This is the wrong song,
'Cause we should be rubbing our shoulders.
This is the final departure,
'Cause we are two mice,
And time is a vulture.
Tomorrow is worth sun up and sun down,
And when are we going to rise?
I hope when you recieve the package I've sent,
It's a pleasant surprise.
Thinking, thinking back to our days.
Waiting, waiting for you to come home again.
It's getting foggy!
But I like that grey kind of weather.
The bus hasn't come yet.
It's tempting to see people sucking on cigarettes!
It's hard to ignore the thoughts in my head,
I wish they weren't mostly of you.
The ringing song of the train bell sounds,
And it makes me feel slightly less blue.
Thinking, thinking back to our days.
Waiting, waiting for you to come home again,
Come home again,
Come home oh,
Lalala lalala lalala