English Boys

When I was 17, I saw a magazineIt had those English boys, who had long hairWhen I was on my own, they moved into my townAnd I just called 'em up and they'd be thereIn 1969, I had a lousy timeI listened to the songs, read letters sent from NamNow peace and love were gone, the tired soldiers homeIdeal society gunned down the seventiesDoes it feel the same to you? Why do you act the way you do?Pack it up or pack it in, there's no excuseCould the hands of time reverse? Would we wake or take the rideAnd again speak with one voice?We knew each other well, although we never metMessages passed to tell equal respectCoincidence recurred, I had to laugh a lotOne week hung up superb, said maybe notDoes it feel the same to you? Why do you act the way you do?Pack it up or pack it in, there's no excuseCould the hands of time reverse? Would we wake or take the rideAnd again speak with one voice?Does it feel the same to you? Why do you act the way you do?Pack it up or pack it in, there's no excuse