Rod Mckuen I Think Of You
When I’m alone at night,
And there’s no one to comfort me,
I think of you . . .
And suddenly my pillow is your face and arms.
And when the winter wind comes chasin’ after me,
I think of you . . .
And it’s as though I crawl beneath the blanket
soft and warm.
How did I get from dark to daylight,
Till you happened to pass by?
How did I find my way through life,
Before you brightened up my sky?
Was there a sky at all,
Until you painted it for me?
How did I get on,
‘Till you came along?
Who knows how many times I pause in every day,
To think of you?
As often as the sun sails out upon the silent sea!
And if you’re wonderin’ why it is I only think of you,
Well it’s because I’d like to be as close to you,
As you’ve become to me!
I think of you . . .
I think of you . . .
