Reservations for one tonight I’ll be eating by myself again At that quiet little corner spot Where we used to hang with all our friends
And I’ll ease down to the local pub Climb up on the tallest stool Holding court with my common sense Outwitting all these common fools
Chorus: I’ve got good taste for blended whiskey I can see my way around this bar I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar I can’t read your mind Baby I can sense this much When it comes to your love I feel like I’m losing my touch
You’re not buying this anymore My lies have come up short again You haven’t said it’s over yet Oh but I can feel a bitter wind And after giving me your better years And hoping for the very best Closing time is drawing near As I sit alone with all the rest
Chorus When it comes to your love I feel like I’m losing my touchTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
