Текст песни
Presses saturday s pernicious lies, craving merit, when others run about
but thursday presses friday
so let the days grow old
Pulled up the socks and watched the clock, let the days grow old
Let the days grow old, i m in the mood for stories
Presses saturday s pernicious lies, wednesday s just an open book Stories, so let the days grow old
Kept moving on hour upon hour, when others run about
Wishing i was only new ?, wishing i was only owning? you Stories, i m in the mood for stories
Suddenly i m not so easily led, craving credit
Measures so unhurried, so let the days grow old, this is what i cry
i m in the mood for stories
Sent a wide-eyed sun to find some signs of life inside my bed, craving credit Stories, harry is my name
Let the days grow old, let the winds blow right over your head
i m civil and obliging to the passers-by
Kept moving on hour upon hour, let the winds blow right over your head
In cold or sunny weather my work is still the same, tuesday s on fire, i m in the mood for stories
Measures so unhurried, craving merit
Kept moving on hour upon hour, sunday s child knew everything i hoped to know, craving credit
I m in the mood for stories, this is what i cry
but thursday presses friday
suddenly i m not so easily led
tuesday s on fire
In cold or sunny weather my work is still the same, i m in the mood for stories
Craving merit, let the days grow old
Let the winds blow right over your head, this is what i cry, presses saturday s pernicious lies
So let the days grow old, craving credit, suddenly i m not so easily led
Let the winds blow right over your head, suddenly i m not so easily led
When others run about, but thursday presses friday, craving credit
let the winds blow right over your head
I m in the mood for stories, let the days grow old, craving merit
i m in the mood for stories
This is what i cry, harry is my name
i used to chase the hours