| Song | Jealous of Youth |
| Artist | The The |
| Album | Solitude |
| 作词 : Johnson | |
| It's funny how, as we grow old | |
| We cling to the past as we cling to the air | |
| And feel nostalgia for things that were maybe never there | |
| The town where innocence was bullied and flared | |
| The house where desire's first fluids bled | |
| But now the autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I'm getting jealous for youth's first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain't a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| There's a girl | |
| I used to know | |
| Who I think still lives 'round here | |
| Up there, on top of that council tower | |
| I was once her man | |
| At the midnight hour | |
| When I was as lusty as a dog | |
| Come moonshine or fog | |
| When our tongues would entwine | |
| Long and slow | |
| When we thought | |
| We'd never let each other go | |
| Oh no? But now the autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I'm getting jealous for youth's first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain't a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| Yet it's funny how as we grow old | |
| We curse and point our finger at those | |
| Those, those, those | |
| Who made us scared and made us old | |
| Who touched our bodies and bruised our souls | |
| Who have made us scared and made us old | |
| It was those, | |
| God It was those | |
| Who made us scared | |
| And made us old | |
| The autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I'm getting jealous for youth's first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain't a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain't a big enough man to anything other than think |
| zuò cí : Johnson | |
| It' s funny how, as we grow old | |
| We cling to the past as we cling to the air | |
| And feel nostalgia for things that were maybe never there | |
| The town where innocence was bullied and flared | |
| The house where desire' s first fluids bled | |
| But now the autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I' m getting jealous for youth' s first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain' t a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| There' s a girl | |
| I used to know | |
| Who I think still lives ' round here | |
| Up there, on top of that council tower | |
| I was once her man | |
| At the midnight hour | |
| When I was as lusty as a dog | |
| Come moonshine or fog | |
| When our tongues would entwine | |
| Long and slow | |
| When we thought | |
| We' d never let each other go | |
| Oh no? But now the autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I' m getting jealous for youth' s first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain' t a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| Yet it' s funny how as we grow old | |
| We curse and point our finger at those | |
| Those, those, those | |
| Who made us scared and made us old | |
| Who touched our bodies and bruised our souls | |
| Who have made us scared and made us old | |
| It was those, | |
| God It was those | |
| Who made us scared | |
| And made us old | |
| The autumn leaves are turning to the color of rust | |
| I' m getting jealous for youth' s first yearnings for lust | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain' t a big enough man to anything other than think | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| I wanna live | |
| But I ain' t a big enough man to anything other than think |