| Ooh |
| Here we go |
| Ooh |
| Here we go |
| Up in the bar all smoking cigars |
| While we were drinking Irish whiskey straight from the jar |
| Talking 'bout them better days, they’re not that far |
| Whoever’s coming back to mine, you better bring the guitar |
| You play a sad song |
| Yeah, sing it from the heart |
| Tell a sad story |
| Yeah, tell it from the start |
| Pass me on the pain that you made into art |
| Yeah, pierce it through my skin like a heroin dart (when) |
| Someone’s strumming on the strings |
| And they’re spitting things |
| Everybody’s moving, grooving vibes while the other sings |
| They gon' kill you with their passion and the soul |
| When the first verse drops, you’ll be fighting back the tears and all |
| While another man’s crying in his beers and all |
| While his woman’s saying, «Cheers to it all!» |
| Ain’t no shame in the game |
| Just the way you were raised |
| To always sing about better days, better days |
| Ooh |
| (Here we go, hey) |
| Ooh |
| Oh, we’ll remember this night when we’re old and gray |
| 'Cause in the future, these’ll be the good ol' days |
| Ooh |
| (Here we go, hey) |
| Ooh |
| Oh, yeah we’re arm-in-arm as we sing away |
| In the future, these’ll be the good ol' days |
| Ten o’clock and it’s off |
| What started as a pub crawl, now we’re all lost |
| Better live it out tonight, tomorrow’s gonna cost |
| So get up on that piano boy and play your a** off |
| You play it real good |
| Everybody sing along |
| If you bang us out a beat |
| Everybody move along |
| Play us something real |
| We can hang our hopes on |
| Sing a rebel song (Oh, these times are hard) |
| And watch us march along |
| Won’t you come along |
| And meet Jenny, meet Pete |
| Meet Mary, meet Keith |
| They’re busking on the street seven days a week |
| Pay a pound, pay a penny |
| Make it full or leave it empty |
| They play, you listen, that’s plenty |
| It’s two AM now, we’re dancing in the rain and all |
| Hanging out of each other like the pain is gone |
| These are my people, these are my crowd |
| And I’m never too proud to sing about 'em (sing about 'em) |
| Ooh |
| (Here we go, hey) |
| Ooh |
| Oh, we’ll remember this night when we’re old and gray |
| Cuz in the future, these’ll be the good ol' days |
| Ooh |
| (Here we go, hey) |
| Ooh |
| Oh, yeah we’re arm-in-arm as we sing away |
| In the future, these’ll be the good ol' days |
| The good ol', the good ol' days |
| (The good ol' days) |
| I got the whole place singing, yeah, singing this song |
| Even the old man there with the paddy hat on is singing |
| (Oh, you wanna sing it? Sing it) |
| I got the whole place singing, yeah, singing this song |
| Even the girl over there with the red dress on is singing |
| (Yeah, she’s singing) |
| Oh, I got the whole bar drinking, yeah, singing this tune |
| Even the guys over there with the big tattoos are singing |
| (Drinking and singing, yeah) |
| Now the emo girls with the college degrees |
| And the tag-along friends with the fake IDs, singing |
| Oh singing |
| Yeah |
| Here we go |
| Here we go |
| Ooh |
| (Here we go) |
| Ooh |
| Oh, yeah we’re arm-in arm as we sing away |
| In the future these’ll be the good ol' days |
| The good ol', the good ol' days |
| (The good ol' days) |
| Good ol' days, yeah |
| The good ol' days… |