|
I drink good coffee every morning |
|
It comes from a place that's far away |
|
And when I'm done, |
|
I feel like talking |
|
Without you here, there is less to say |
|
But I don't want you thinking |
|
I'm unhappy |
|
What is closer to the truth |
|
That if I lived till |
|
I was hundred and two |
|
I just don't think, |
|
I'll ever get over you |
|
I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey' |
|
Cause it always leads me to that room |
|
Another day spent drunk and weeping |
|
It's not my idea of a pleasant afternoon |
|
But I can now say, |
|
I'm no longer lonely' |
|
Cause I shook the hand of time and |
|
I knewThat if |
|
I lived till |
|
I could no longer climb my stairs |
|
I just don't think, |
|
I'll ever get over you |
|
Your face it dances and it haunts me |
|
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears |
|
I still find pieces of your presence here |
|
Even after all these years |
|
But I don't want you thinking, |
|
I don't get asked to dinner' |
|
Cause I'm here to say that |
|
I sometimes do |
|
Even though |
|
I may soon feel the touch of love |
|
I just don't think, |
|
I'll ever get over you |
|
And if I lived till |
|
I was hundred and two |
|
I just don't think, |
|
I'll ever get over you |
