Lost little boys on milk carton ads
In-fact eight little English lads
They come in ones, twos, and threes
Knocking, knocking, breaking down doors

Hopscotch memories, western stories
Double sided leather wrist watch bands
They leave in eights, nines, and tens
He asked me, "How's life treating you these days?"

“It depends”
(I write you letters with hotel stolen pens
They come in eights, nines, and tens)

Do you remember bowling alley nights?
The scuff on your favorite tennis shoes
Sun burnt freckles flawlessly flicker across her face
The smell, the look, the pain of this place

Wind blows sand in your eyes
Wake up sad, what a surprise
If you were a seed, you hit rocks


Lyrics submitted by baboonix

Bowling Alley Nights song meanings
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