Thinking 'bout My Baby

You're too far away to hold Get yer head out of the clouds, I'm told By friends and relations, who say To concentrate on now, today. But on your touch, I'm sold Your kisses are worth more than gold And blue skies turned to grey E'er since you had to go away. Outside your arms, I'm cold I miss the way you would enfold Me close to you, that way And how I wished that you could stay. The jet plane down the runway rolled, And took you far away that day. For January, I do pray To get here soon, before I'm old.