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
