You sat idle in your bronzy, brilliant air A thousand passed and never saw you there But my gaze was always fixed upon the ground And I picked you up and brushed you off And kept you, penny boy You sang and jangled in my coat all day As I guess your stories circa '98 And there's nothing of that winter I would change Holding hands inside my pocket Me and penny boy There are still some things that my pen just can't write Im suspended in between my thoughts at night But when I awake it's cleared up by the light Illuminating that frustrating Funny penny boy Glad my gaze was always fixed upon the ground Glad i picked you up and brushed you off and kept you Penny boy.