So I talk a little too much, and I laugh a little too much
And my voice is too loud when I’m out in a crowd
So that people are apt to stare

Do they know, do they care, that it’s only
That I’m lonely, and low as can be?

And the smile on my face isn’t really a smile at all

So I smoke a little too much, and I joke a little too much
And the tunes I request are not always the best
But the ones where the trumpets blare

So I go at a maddening pace, and I pretend that it’s taking his place
But what else can you do at the end of a love affair?