3WW

There was a wayward lad
 Stepped out one morning
 ♪
 The ground to be his bed
 The sky his awning
 ♪
 Neon, neon, neon
 A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field
 Can't surround so you lean on, lean on
 So much your heart's become fond of this
 Oh, these three worn words
 Oh, let me whisper like the rubbing hands
 Of tourists in Verona
 I just want to love you in my own language
 ♪
 Well, that smell of sex
 Good like burning wood
 The wayward lad laid clean
 To two busty girls from Hornsea
 Who left a note in black ink
 Girls from above say "Hi" (hi)
 The road erodes at five feet per year
 Around England's east coastline
 Was this your first time?
 
 Love is just a button we press
 Last night by the campfire
 Oh, these three worn words
 Oh, that we whisper like the rubbing hands
 Of tourists in Verona
 I just want to love you in my own language
 
 There was a wayward lad
 Stepped out one morning
 ♪
 The ground to be his bed
 The sky his awning
 ♪
 Neon, neon, neon
 A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field
 Can't surround so you lean on, lean on
 So much your heart's become fond of this
 Oh, these three worn words
 Oh, let me whisper like the rubbing hands
 Of tourists in Verona
 I just want to love you in my own language
 ♪
 Well, that smell of sex
 Good like burning wood
 The wayward lad laid clean
 To two busty girls from Hornsea
 Who left a note in black ink
 Girls from above say "Hi" (hi)
 The road erodes at five feet per year
 Around England's east coastline
 Was this your first time?
 
 Love is just a button we press
 Last night by the campfire
 Oh, these three worn words
 Oh, that we whisper like the rubbing hands
 Of tourists in Verona
 I just want to love you in my own language