In 1988, we stayed up late.
Young kids on the prowl making our stake.
Learning our right from wrong,
growing to be strong.
Just a poor ole’ boy from the neighborhood.
Thinking that he could get away for good.
And then she came in Spring, an angel without wings.
giving my heart a ring, and a song to sing.
She was more than just a friend, we walked hand in hand
And soon the magic began. It was all unplanned.
But in 1988, I thought it was fate.
Your first may be the worst, but still it’s great.
Acting like a clown, goofing all around.
Floating above ground, I’m on the town
( I’m on the town )
But then on New Year’s Eve, she told me she had to leave.
And I could not believe I was so naive.
And like a skipping stone the years bounced on.
Although I felt alone, I still held on.
Drifting with no aim, wondering if I was to blame.
It drove me all insane, that endless game.
Somehow we all grew old, while searching for gold.
And if there’s a lesson told, what do I know?
She was more than just a friend, threw innocence into the wind,
And now this is the end, of a thing called love.
(A thing called love.)
Walking through the park, I hear the dogs bark.
Hurry home before dark, so dinner can start.
The constellations fade, if you hestitate.
In 1988, we stayed up late.