You stand in the doorway a block up the street. Ringing the doorbell there’s tapping of feet. High yellow hair and a worn brown suit.... Enter and break the news. Now tell me the story I give it the time. No need to worry everything’s fine. I’ll take you away from this name-calling scene. Sure... you can bring your magazine. Cold and windblown on the old bandstand. You and I walking hand in hand. A neon-glow shining down on us. Don’t wait up for us. Don’t wait up for us. Now tell me the story I’ll give it the time. When you stop looking then you will find. I’ll take you away from this name-calling scene. Just bring your magazine. Cold and windblown on the old bandstand. You and I walking hand in hand. A neon-glow shining down on us. Don’t wait up for us. Don’t wait up for us