Show me them now. Those wild little boys. The ones that spelled trouble. And stole all their toys. Young boys with contempt. Dreams and schemes in their eyes.
You've always been searching for something. But everything seems so so-so. Tightly close your eyes. Hold out your hand. We'll make a stand. Forget their plans.
Nobody tells you, you end up knowing. Bad habits, you should sleep alone. Open to suggestions, is that the way you feel?. . 'Coz you're the voice of experience, every word you choose.
Poor old Johnny Ray. Sounded sad upon the radio. Moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried. Sang along, who'd blame them. . You're grown, so grown.
Poor old Johnny Ray. Sounded sad upon the radio. He moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried and sang along and who'd blame them. Now you're grown, so grown, now I must say more than ever.
Nobody tells you. You end up knowing. Bad habits: you should sleep alone. Open to suggestions, is that the way you feel?. 'cause you're the voice of experience, every word.