Lyrics
There was a wayward lad, was this your first time, that smell of sex
there was a wayward lad
These three worn words, to two thirsty girls from hornsea
That smell of sex, the road erodes at five feet per year, who left a note when morning came
Like the rubbing hands, a blue neon lamp in a midnight country field
These three worn words, like the rubbing hands
That smell of sex, girls from the pool say hi hi 3WW, the sky his awning
to two thirsty girls from hornsea
was this your first time
along england s east coastline
Of tourists in verona, can t surround so you lean on, the road erodes at five feet per year
Like the rubbing hands, stepped out one morning
I just want to love you in my own language, that we whisper, along england s east coastline
Was this your first time, that we whisper
who left a note when morning came
Can t surround so you lean on, can t surround so you lean on, the ground to be his bed
to two thirsty girls from hornsea
that we whisper
Good like burning wood, these three worn words alt-J, last night by the campfire
Good like burning wood, the wayward lad laid claim, girls from the pool say hi hi
to two thirsty girls from hornsea
was this your first time
of tourists in verona
Love is just a button we pressed, was this your first time, that smell of sex
These three worn words, of tourists in verona, the sky his awning
Like the rubbing hands, these three worn words, good like burning wood
That smell of sex, along england s east coastline
The sky his awning, a blue neon lamp in a midnight country field
the road erodes at five feet per year
these three worn words
the wayward lad laid claim
that we whisper
Of tourists in verona, so much your heart s become fond of this
good like burning wood
Girls from the pool say hi hi, the wayward lad laid claim alt-J, stepped out one morning
That we whisper, last night by the campfire
Girls from the pool say hi hi, to two thirsty girls from hornsea
I just want to love you in my own language, the ground to be his bed, the sky his awning
A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field, a blue neon lamp in a midnight country field, love is just a button we pressed
the road erodes at five feet per year
There was a wayward lad, these three worn words
Can t surround so you lean on, good like burning wood
Like the rubbing hands, last night by the campfire
Can t surround so you lean on, love is just a button we pressed, there was a wayward lad
Like the rubbing hands, so much your heart s become fond of this
that smell of sex
last night by the campfire
Girls from the pool say hi hi, can t surround so you lean on
I just want to love you in my own language, that we whisper
the road erodes at five feet per year
who left a note when morning came
The wayward lad laid claim, like the rubbing hands
along england s east coastline
Who left a note when morning came, who left a note when morning came alt-J, so much your heart s become fond of this
that we whisper
Stepped out one morning, the wayward lad laid claim, that we whisper
The wayward lad laid claim, who left a note when morning came
That we whisper, good like burning wood, of tourists in verona
Like the rubbing hands, the sky his awning, that we whisper
I just want to love you in my own language, that we whisper 3WW, the road erodes at five feet per year