P.S. I Love You - Frank Sinatra, Nelson Riddle

What is there to write?

What is there to say?

Same things happen everyday, not a thing to write, not a thing to say

So I take my pen in hand and start the same old way

Dear, I thought I’d drop a line, the weather’s cool, the folks are fine

I’m in bed each night at nine, P. S. I love you

Yesterday we had some rain, but all in all, I can’t complain

Was it just beyond the train, P. S. I love you

Write to the Browns just as soon as you’re able

They came around to call, and I burned a hole in the dining room table

And let me see, I guess that’s all

Nothing else for me to say, and so I’ll close but by the way

Everybody’s thinking of you, P. S. I love you

I do my best to obey all your wishes, I put a sign up «Think»

But I gotta buy us a new set of dishes, or wash the ones that are piled in the

sink

Nothing else to tell you dear, except each day seems like a year

Every night I’m dreaming of you, P. S. I love you