i took a pen.
i start, "mrs. lane, goodbye suave gentlemen, old cologne, beethoven; he's in the wings."
don't you fret, i'm not quite wolfgang yet, i know your heart was set, but it was the last thing on my mind.
hoping that i might be chopin at the end of '99, when it was the last thing on my mind (still in the garden, alan waits there).
sauce stained need and too much me.
eat my lies, eat my size.
but fresh cut grass on saturdays, miss the bus, so ashamed i left you there.
don't you fret, i'm not quite wolfgang yet, i know your heart was set, but it was the last thing on my mind.
chin up, son, you might be mendelssohn before the year is done.
thinking my life has just begun.
"you're uncommited."
i'll spare you your time.
there's no regretting, mrs. lane.
i guess i just believed that you'd always wait for me, mrs. lane.
and calling on the phone, i know that you're really home, playing dead, mrs. lane.
don't you fret, i've got just one regret, one i can't seem to let go.
don't you fret, i've got just one regret, one i can't just forget.
you pay for the last thing on your mind.


Lyrics submitted by playedinstereo

not quite wolfgang yet, mrs. lane song meanings
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