|
There's a kid inside, |
|
and I have him with me always. |
|
There's a kid inside, |
|
Walking down old high school hallways. |
|
Where's a kid inside, |
|
At a desk, at a dance, in the halls,in the showers. |
|
There's a kid inside to this very day. |
|
And he makes a try for that high pop fly, |
|
That I fumbled one September. |
|
And he makes a fuss over some A plus, |
|
That I shouldn't still remember. |
|
And he goes along, |
|
Getting hurt, getting mad, fighting fights that are over. |
|
And unless I'm strong, |
|
All my senses are carried away. |
|
I can feel my hand, my trembling hand, |
|
On Michelle's angora sweater. |
|
I can hear my band, that awful band, |
|
Only now it sounds much better. |
|
I can see the kid, the kid I use to be, |
|
On the stage, on the field, on the lunch line. |
|
I can feel him tugging at me, |
|
Every time I think I don't care I blink, |
|
and he's there again, he's there again. |
|
Fighting ancient wrongs, |
|
Humming old hit songs in my head. |
|
Singing come along, come along, |
|
Come along for the ride. |
|
To a time and place, |
|
I could not forget if I tried. |
|
And I never know, when the breeze'll blow, |
|
With a rush of old sensation. |
|
Why the kid should wake, |
|
And my heart should ache, |
|
Everytime I smell carnations. |
|
Something rings the bell, |
|
Any thing at all, |
|
All it takes is a slam of a locker. |
|
Or the switch from summer to fall, |
|
A change of season seems barely reason, |
|
But there he goes, he's there again. |
|
Fighting ancient wrongs, |
|
Humming old hit songs in my head. |
|
Singing come along, come along, |
|
Come along for the ride. |
|
To a time and place, |
|
I could not for get if I tried. |
|
There he goes again, |
|
Hummin his songs. |
|
He's there again, |
|
There's a kid inside... |
|
Hummin his songs. |
|
Fighting ancient wrongs, |
|
Humming old hit songs in my head. |