I wrote a thousand verses
Each one about doctors and nurses
On paper napkins in diners
And wrote the titles on matchsticks
Tucked them in the left breast pocket
Of a tattered silk check shirt
And threw the shirt away
Into the shadow of a corner
Of a northern Spanish bar
Without bra** in the backline
But shutters on the doors
And twenty, thirty people
In clusters on the floor
Looking anywhere but at each other
Between the runners of a busted wooden pier
Before the beers with Tracy on the bottle
And I thought of you at the airport
And I was still thinking of you on the plane
And when the police took my pa**port
And wrote down my name -
I thought of you again
I was doing press-ups in the hotel lobby;
The lobby with me was unimpressed
I managed five, but I was barely alive
When I rolled over to rest
And I thought of all your illnesses
And your incredible strength
And I guess that it meant that I missed you
And I though of all the little things that always made you tense
And I wished I was able to tell you that
I'd have learnt a thousand tricks to make them disappear
With whispers in the ear
And kisses
And I though about your lips, your mouth, your smile, your laugh, your lips
Your lips, your mouth, your smile, your laugh, your lips
And I though of you in Sweden
Like I'd been thinking of you all over Spain
And when the pissed up student girls teased me
With the sound of my own name -
I thought of you again