What is there to write?
What is there to say?
The same things happen everyday,
Not a thing to write, not a thing to say,
So I take my pen in hand and start the same old way
Dear, I thought I'd drop a line
The weather's cool, the folks are fine
I'm in bed each night at nine
P.S. I love you
Yesterday we had some rain
But all in all I can't complain
Was it dusty on the train?
P.S. I love you
Write to the Browns just as soon as you're able
They came around to call
And I burned a hole in the dining room table
And let me see, I guess that's all
Nothin' else for me to say
And so I'll close but by the way
Everybody's thinkin' of you
P.s. I love you
I do my best to obey all your wishes
I put a sign up, think
But I gotta buy us a new set of dishes
Or wash the ones that have piled in the sink
Nothing else to tell you, dear
Except, each day seems like a year
Every night I'm dreamin' of you
P.S. I love you