The There was a wayward lad Stepped out one morning The ground to be his bed The sky his awning Neon, neon, neon Blue neon lamp in a midnight country wind Gouts around so you lean on, lean on So much your heart's become for those All these sweet old words That we whisper Tied the wrapping hands Of two wrists in drama I just want to love you in my own language Well, that smell of sex good like burning wood The wayward lad lay clean Turned to pasty girls for fancy Left a note and then came Girls from up all say hi The road arose at five feet per year Along England's east coast line Was this your first time? Love is just a button you press Last night by a campfire All these sweet old words That we whisper Tied the wrapping hands Of two wrists in drama I just want to love you in my own language Love is just a button you press Last night by a campfire All these sweet old words Tied the wrapping hands Of two wrists in drama