Bruce Brittain
American Songwriter and Singer
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Whispers of Smoke

Comes a voice on the phone, she calls me by name
There’s a catch in my throat, there’s a long buried pain
In the back of mind cause she sounds just the same
This voice on the phone, she calls me by name

She laughs at my silence, she tells me she’s fine
Just thinking of me and all our good-old-bad times
Comes a distant misery, no words do I find
While she laughs at my silence and tells me she’s fine

Like whispers of smoke, more sensed than seen
Rising up in my mind, in a lover’s bad dream
Her soft faded memory, through a fog barely seen
Like whispers of smoke, from a lover’s sad dream

I stare at my hands long after she’d gone
Hands once that touched her and played her my songs
Her voice slowly melting but the ache lingers on
Like whispers of smoke, long after she’d gone

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