Don't get me wrong
Don't mind you shouting
Just think your style excludes
The part that really matters
Just grow tired
Of empty minds mouthing
English language courses
While they struggle with the a b c of heart
And I confess
That all I've learnt
Has been learnt a million times
By every empty heart
That ever felt a song come home
But I'd he happy
When next I ask the time
If I find I've wasted none of mine
listening while you wasted all of yours