This seven-forty-seven can't go fast enough, fast enough Every minute is wasted time She gets a little bit closer to saying goodbye I'm looking out from my window seat Halfway back, aisle twenty three Man I wish that I could fly this thing I could hear

All the Pinot, Pinot Grigio girls Watch your blues turn gold Keep it real cold 'Cause it's a fired-up world Oh, oh, make it all make sense Pour your heart out Oh, oh, does it all make sense? I was twenty-three She was thirty-five

What's my age again, what's my age again? Nobody likes you when you're twenty three My friends say I should act my age And that's about the time she walked away from me I took her out, it was a Friday night I wore cologne to get the feeling right We