And I'll ease down to the local pub

I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox
Baby, I can sense this much
I feel like I'm losing my touch
As I sit alone with all the rest
And hoping for the very best
When it comes to your love
Where we used to hang with all our friends
And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar
Well I got good taste for blended whiskey
And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar
I feel like I'm losing my touch
I can see my way around this bar
Oh but I can sense this much
Holding court with my common sense
Closing time is drawing near

And climb up on the tallest stool
I can't read your mind
I feel like I'm losing my touch
At that quiet little corner spot
Outwitting all these common fools
I've got good taste for blended whiskey
I can see my way around this bar
You're not buying this anymore

You haven't said it's over yet

Oh, but I can feel a bitter wind
My lies have come up short again
And after giving me your better years
I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox
I can't read your mind
When it comes to your love
When it comes to your love