Lyrics

Can we channel our laughter
And we’ll film it with puppets
To watch again in a score or two
When I’ll have a beard like you

Well a score year has passed
I’m still waiting for it to feel like the real thing
And not a dress rehearsal
We shared the same protracted way of living
Slow to put on weight, slow to graduate
But we didn’t care, we were glow pears
In that corridor that stunk of wet feet and Weetabix

Like a constant hum in your ears
You don’t notice until it stops
So the thing it tugged at the hem of my knee
Unravelling me so completely

But how sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene
How sweet the taste is this next scene