Miles Is a Cigarette

The weak and hazy shades of winter sun Come shining through Lifting fog from the trees and a gentle warm breeze Send it up in to the blue Blue sky and you come creeping through my soul Goodbye our love's smoking too And the sound of those Italian engines Is much more the sound of you Miles was a cigarette smoky and long Gonna miss what I never had Now that cigarette is gone --- Miles Is a Cigarette - Chris Rea