| We're sitting backstage and, | |
| Waiting to go on. | |
| Thinking ablout the chore, | |
| Hoping we wont go wrong. | |
| I see someone from the TV, | |
| Does she remember me. | |
| We're sitting backstage and, | |
| We've got nothing to do. | |
| Waiting for the man to tell us, | |
| Stuff we already knew. | |
| I see her sit next to me, | |
| I hope she's thinking about me. | |
| Pass me my guitar and I will, | |
| Play another tune... | |
| Pass me my Bic pen and I will, | |
| Write a song for you. | |
| Another song... | |
| Although I'm far from home, | |
| I'm not ready to go. | |
| I know it won't be long, | |
| Being on my own. | |
| Pass me my guitar and I will, | |
| Play another song. | |
| Pass me my Bic pen and I will, | |
| Write another song. | |
| Another song... |
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