Still even now, running them through my head
all those simple moments when I could of said.
I still see that smile of yours in every woman
see, I was and probably still am its biggest fan
Slouched on the sofa, looking in my direction.
Said what I want to hear, waiting for a reaction,
your long legs, poking out the bottom of the bed
tall enough so there was not much tilt of my head
to look at you. Features so stunning and a delight,
I promised I would defend your honour in a fight.
An honest chap to those all around but not for me,
keeping myself blind, refusing, not wanting to see.
I miss your cooking my belly continues to mourn,
you were my morning chours each and every dawn.
Reach out my hand to touch you, pull it away again
like that old worn joke and run it through my mane.
That worn out joke, thats me.
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