Your gentle touch is not what I miss the most
Nor coming home from work to egg on toast
Its not running away, to escape the bores
And finding a quiet spot, to make love outdoors
Your bright, blue eyes are not what I miss the most
Nor sacking off work to spend a day at the coast
Its not hearing you laugh and seeing you smile
Or gazing at the stars, just laying for a while
Nor that I was lucky to have you, able to boast.
I now stalk our old haunts, a fading ghost
So just been together and feeling alive
Is what I will always miss about 2005.