Longing for the schoolyard

Reaching for the scenes

Reminded by the songs that will never disappear

Random like the infants

Outdated like the old

Lying there in aimlessness listening to the cure

Doing some rehearsal

Excercising in the cold

Lowering the standart

For the six-string never rolled

Whistling at the girls

And saving for the fuel

Making plans and knock, knock, knock on wood



Play some rock

Play some rock

Please don't stop

Coming home, coming home



Sentenced by our faults

That we were to make in time

Pleasently aware

Of our solitude in mind

Saved me from the boredom

Of what we disavowed

Encouraged by the sound

That was the sweetest one of all

Admiring your senses

Infected by your tongue

Defenceless I believed

That we'd face anything to come

You innocently told me

You'd catch me when I fall

And solemnly we'd knock, knock, knock on wood



Play some rock

Play some rock

Please don't stop

Coming home, coming home



I'm not the only one, I'm not the only one