(originally by Colin Hay)




I drink a coffee every morning
It comes from a place that's far away

And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say


I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
Is if I lived 'til I was one-hundred and two

I just don't think I'll ever get over you

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey

I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived 'til I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you


Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears

I still find pieces of your presence here
Even, even after all these years


I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
And even though I may soon feel a touch of love

I just don't think I'll ever get over you

And if I lived 'til I was one-hundred and two

I just don't think I'll ever get over you...