What is there to write? What is there to say? 
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 just beyond the train, P. S. I love you 

Write to the Browns just as soon as you're able 
dining room table 
And let me see, I guess that's all 
Nothing else for me to say, and so I'll close but by the 
way 
Everybody's thinking 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 are piled in the sink 
Nothing else to tell you dear, except each day seems like 
a year 
Every night I'm dreaming of you, P. S. I love you