Here they come down my street
He's standin' there where I use to be
Look at that stupid grin on his face
Don't he look so out of place?

Poor thing, he can't help himself
Just let him have his turn
But baby, you and I both know
Some gifts can't be returned

He not a permanent thing

The night we met, that's all it took
By the cigarette machine
With the babbling brook
I was lookin' at you
You were lookin' right back
Got down on one knee
And made you laugh

I don't really blame you, girl
For messing with his head
I know that you'll be back before
I see that boy again

He not a permanent thing