You left

The florist qiut, so I threw everything out of the suite. I ate, drank, disappointed, sank a boat, ooh, resotted. Well, you never quite know what life is,if you're not disappointed, And pray, tell, how colder does life get, kindly pass me the remote. Do I have to throw away the whiskey too, and the glass it is in? Do I have to flee this room too,just because we shared a place in it, once? You know, the reason I think this room means so much to me Is because we never actually spent time here, I could move to the lobby, but you kissed me there, once I could go to the kitchen, but you held my waist, as I took the glass off the shelf. I miss the times back when physical touch wasn't sin When a smile, only meant that, a smile. I miss the innocence people could share, Without feeling like creeps.