So I close the blinds and turn my head to see
Not a single thing, that wasn't meant for you and me
Realising too late, that was our final sleep
Apart from the whisky
And a bag of weed
I'm gonna stick
With the same old routine, oh
Waking with my arms wrapped round the scent of you
Ask myself the question, how did you sleep? No good
Don't need to consider what's on the dinner menu
Apart from the fact, this house I just cannot leave
I'm gonna stick, with the same old routine, oh
The same old routine, yeah
Well half the dinner's getting cold
And making up a bed for two is getting old
God I'm getting old
The same old routine
The same old routine
The same old routine
The same old routine
Just gimme the same old routine
