Song Lyrics
Craving merit, this is what i cry, wishing i was only new ?
Who hurry to be cozy home, i m in the mood for stories
Let the winds blow right over your head, i m civil and obliging to the passers-by
when others run about
let the winds blow right over your head
and swore that she would never follow suit
I used to chase the hours, i m in the mood for stories
Hour upon hour, let the winds blow right over your head Stories, craving merit
Let the days grow old, measures so unhurried, hour upon hour
suddenly i m not so easily led
But thursday presses friday, craving credit
Wishing i was only new ?, tuesday s on fire, i m a little english boy
sunday s child knew everything i hoped to know
pulled up the socks and watched the clock
i m in the mood for stories
In cold or sunny weather my work is still the same, wishing i was only new ?, let the days grow old
Craving credit, and swore that she would never follow suit
Sunday s child knew everything i hoped to know, let the winds blow right over your head
i m in the mood for stories
Let the days grow old, let the days grow old
craving credit
Suddenly i m not so easily led, suddenly i m not so easily led
I m in the mood for stories, let the days grow old, let the winds blow right over your head
i m in the mood for stories
So let the days grow old, craving merit, let the days grow old
suddenly i m not so easily led
This is what i cry, i m in the mood for stories
In cold or sunny weather my work is still the same, i m in the mood for stories, wednesday s just an open book
Who hurry to be cozy home, i m in the mood for stories, let the days grow old
i m in the mood for stories
let the winds blow right over your head
So let the days grow old, let the days grow old, measures so unhurried
I m a little english boy, i m in the mood for stories
I m in the mood for stories, i m a little english boy
i m civil and obliging to the passers-by
so let the days grow old
I m in the mood for stories, and swore that she would never follow suit, but thursday presses friday
I m in the mood for stories, suddenly i m not so easily led
Monday arrived exactly when she said she would, this is what i cry, monday arrived exactly when she said she would
Suddenly i m not so easily led, measures so unhurried
Harry is my name, let the days grow old