David Bowie

Sitting here
Wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that
I had just something you wore
I put it on when I go lonely
Will you take off your dress
And send it to me?
I miss your kissin
And I miss your head
And a letter in your writing
Doesnt mean youre not dead
Just run outside in the desert heat
Make your dress all wet
And send it to me
I miss your soup and I miss your bread