| I can’t believe we’re gettin' this old
 | 
| October is a blowin' in cold
 | 
| Put off all the bad advice
 | 
| And put on your leather coat
 | 
| Don’t think about what you had
 | 
| That thinkin' only makes you sad
 | 
| Will my love fall back again
 | 
| Like an angel in the snow?
 | 
| I’ve got big, big dreams
 | 
| But I still ain’t got no motorbike
 | 
| And there’s no money from the likes of what I love
 | 
| And it seems, it seems
 | 
| Me and my friends won’t make it through
 | 
| ‘Cause I still draw on dumb tattoo I’m thinking of
 | 
| City livin' isn’t livin' quite right
 | 
| Scared of sitting at a traffic light
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| Pretty pigeon ain’t a pretty sight
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| In a puddle, eatin' dirt
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| Staring at a broken telephone
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| Disconnected, and I feel alone
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| Just tell me what I used to know
 | 
| And nobody here gets hurt
 | 
| I’ve got big, big dreams
 | 
| But I still ain’t got no motorbike
 | 
| And there’s no money from the likes of what I love
 | 
| And it seems, it seems
 | 
| Me and my friends won’t make it through
 | 
| ‘Cause I still draw on dumb tattoo I’m thinking of
 | 
| When it’s the present we hate the past
 | 
| Everybody grows up too fast
 | 
| When I was looking through the looking glass
 | 
| I looked past being young
 | 
| Disappointment comes as you grow
 | 
| My generation’s not a TV show
 | 
| And you can tell the fuckin' radio
 | 
| That our songs have not been sung
 | 
| I’ve got big, big dreams
 | 
| But I still ain’t got no motorbike
 | 
| And there’s no money from the likes of what I love
 | 
| And it seems, it seems
 | 
| Me and my friends won’t make it through
 | 
| ‘Cause I still draw on dumb tattoo I’m thinking of
 | 
| I can’t believe we’re gettin' this old
 | 
| October is a blowin' in cold
 | 
| Put off all the bad advice
 | 
| And put on your leather coat |