THE NIGHT IS YOUNG AND SO ARE WE
The night is young and so, my dear, are we.
(All right, that’s a cliché but that’s just me)
Let’s have a wild night and paint the town red.
(Oh dear, that’s another cliché I’ve said)
We’ll tour all the bars, drink whiskey galore,
Then to a night club and take to the floor.
But, of course, we won’t be doing those things.
We’ll just sit here while the nightingale sings.
I lied at the start, if the truth be told.
The night might be young, but we’re far too old.
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