Reservations for one tonight

I’ll be eating by myself again

At that quiet little corner spot

Where we used to hang with all our friends



And I’ll ease down to the local pub

Climb up on the tallest stool

Holding court with my common sense

Outwitting all these common fools



Chorus:

I’ve got good taste for blended whiskey

I can see my way around this bar

I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox

And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar

I can’t read your mind

Baby I can sense this much

When it comes to your love

I feel like I’m losing my touch



You’re not buying this anymore

My lies have come up short again

You haven’t said it’s over yet

Oh but I can feel a bitter wind

And after giving me your better years

And hoping for the very best

Closing time is drawing near As I sit alone with all the rest



Chorus

When it comes to your love

I feel like I’m losing my touch