Woorden: The Libertines. France.

The ideal girl
In London from France
Came over then left me
She left me entranced
Now I have to get by
Once again on my own
Nothing but memories

So I remember your eyes in that fine shade of brown
While these blue eyes of mine they stay closed
I kissed you goodbye on the M109
I choked as I watched the bus go

I'm choking and smoking to your angelic soul
I'm choking and smoking myself into a hole
Where the only way out is to sleep and to dream
And to cry out your name