She said I’m looking out the window and I think I see France And I thought, what’s France if I can’t see you And as she penned her paper and flew over the seas I sat at my desk listlessly
And I am restless I’m so restless
Yes I am restless I’m so restless
She scribbled down her day while on the bus home from the pub Illegible lines I tried to decipher The imagery constructed in my head so vividly That I thought I could taste on my lips her cider
And I’m waiting for the day when We don’t have to pen our hearts in Loose pages of some refill And hope the post makes it on time
Oh Mr, Mr postman Take good care of my heart that I’m sending It’s marked fragile and I must depend On its safe arrival at the other end
She said i’m looking out the window and I think I see France And I thought, what’s France if I can’t see you