Young men

All the young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why we're not afraid of getting colder."
When the young men die, people shrug their shoulders,
When they go.

All the young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why we're not afraid of getting colder."
When the young men die, the people shrug their shoulders,
When they go...oh...

I could find a hole,
Underneath the aisle.
Oh, my love would grow,
With each time,
You pass me by.

Tell me how, t-tell me how-
The young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why we're not afraid of getting colder."
When the young men die, the people shrug their shoulders,
When they go...oh...

I could find a hole,
Underneath the aisle.
Oh, my love would grow,
With each time,
You pass me by.

Tell me, oh, t-tell me, oh-
The young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why we're not afraid of getting colder."
When the young men die, the people shrug their shoulders,
When they go-

Do do do, do do do, do do do do doo
Ba-da-da-da-da-daa
Do do do, do do do, do do do do doo
Ba-da-da-da-da-daa
Do do do, do do do, do do do do doo
Ba-da-da-da-da-daa
Do do do, do do do, do do do do doo

Where the good men go,
Every street is paved with gold.
But baby they don't let you bring,
Anything.

Young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why, they ask us why-"
Young men die and they barely shrug their shoulders,
When they go.

All the young men cry, "We're so good at getting older,
That they ask us why we're not afraid of getting colder."
When the young men die, the people shrug their shoulders,
When they go...woah...
Yeah.