longing for the schoolyard .
reaching for the scenes .
reminded by the songs that will never disappear .
random like the infants .
outdated like the old .
lying there in aimlessness listening to the cure .
doing some rehearsal .
exercising in the cold .
lowering the standarts .
for the six-string never rolled .
whistling at the girls .
and saving for the fuel .
making plans and knock knock knock on wood .
play some rock .
play some rock .
please don´t stop .
coming home comimg home .
sentenced by our faults .
we were to make in time .
pleasently aware .
of our solitude in mind .
saved me from the boredom .
of what we disavowed .
encouraged by the sound .
that was the sweetest one of all .
admiring your senses .
infected by your tongue .
defenceless I believed .
that we´d face anything to come .
you innocently told me .
you´d catch me when I fall .
and solemnly we´d knock knock knock on wood .
play some rock .
play some rock .
please don´t stop .
coming home coming home .
I´m not the only one ...