verse 1 There was a wayward lad, stepped out one morning The ground to be his bed, the sky his awning verse 2 Neon, neon, neon A blue neon lamp in a midnight country field Cows surround so you lean on, lean on So much your hugs become hold ons Oh these three worn words Oh oh-oh-oh, that we whisper Like the rubbing hands of tourists in Verona N.C. I just want to love you in my own language Instrumental: verse 3 Well that smell of sex, good like burning wood The wayward lad lay claim To two thirsty girls from Hornsea Who left a note when morning came Bridge Girls from the pool say 'hi' (hi) The road erodes at five feet per year along England's east coastline Was this your first time? Love is just a button we pressed last night by the campfire Oh these three worn words Oh oh-oh-oh, that we whisper Like the rubbing hands of tourists in Verona I just want to love you in my own language