Frank SinatraP.S. I Love You

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
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