It’s not the end of the road,
We’re almost home,
If we figure things out,
We can get back to the stars.

It’s a tracksuit city,
To me it’s kinda pretty,
It’s another Monday morning,
I hope that you’re still wanting to me.

In Glasgow, maybe London,
I hope that there’s still something,
A leaf in every season,
That we’re proud of every reason to be.

Don’t you ever feel like giving it up?
If you ever feel you’re losing your love.

It’s not the end of the road,
We’re almost home,
If we figure things out,
We can get back to the stars.
If you take my hand,
And follow the plan,
Every woman, every man,
We’ll get back to the stars.

A little goes a long way,
Have I run into a mistake?
Or am I out of luck,

Threw a pebble in a wishing well,
It feels way bigger when I’m by myself,
Or am I out of luck?

Don’t you ever feel like giving it up?
If you ever feel you’re losing your love.

It’s not the end of the road,
We’re almost home,
If we figure things out,
We can get back to the stars.
(Get back to the stars).
If you take my hand,
And follow the plan,
Every woman, every man,
We’ll get back to the stars.
(Get back to the stars).

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
I just wanna get back to you
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
I just wanna get back to you
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh,
I just wanna get back to you
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh, ooh,

It’s a tracksuit city,
To me it’s kinda pretty,
It’s another Monday morning,
I hope that you’re still wanting to me.

In Glasgow, maybe London,
I hope that there’s still something,
A leaf in every season,
That we’re proud of every reason to be.