P.S.

Kicking the dirt of the street looks so damn familiar
To undersoles and under your soul.
I chose the place to meet. You chose the way to eat
Floor to ceiling, door to door, as I spoke some more.

And blue smoke arises
As I speak from aside over and over again.
And the bottle keeps me singing as I
Piss and moan over the telephone.
Melodic telephone

An unfamiliar touch brings me back to the old ways.
A headboard rush keeps me going back to the old days.

And blue smoke arises
As I speak from aside over and over again.
And the bottle keeps me singing as I
Piss and moan over the telephone.
Melodic telephone.

They don't know what it feels like.
They don't know what it feels like to be lost in love (x4)

And blue smoke arises as I
speak from aside over and over again
And the bottle keeps me singing as I
Piss and moan over the telephone.