He use to phone her on Saint Swithins' Day.
He use to send her little notes that said "I miss you love".
He doesn't ever see her anymore.
When she went by he wouldn't open up the door.
And they don't think it should happen to me.
And they don't think that that's the way it ought to be.
I like the way your hazy eyes begin to sparkle.
I liked you better with your trousers 'round your ankles.
If you could shut your mouth, or I could hear no longer.
Or if the room went dim, and drinks were getting stronger.
And they don't think it should happen to me.
And they don't think that that's the way it ought to be.
I stay away from clouds like these.
I stay away from clouds like these.
I stay away from clouds like these.
I stay away...
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Clouds Like These