Labelled With Love , Squeeze She unscrews the top off her new whisky bottle She hobbles about in her candlelit hovel Like some kind of witch, with blue fingers in mittens She smells like a cat, and the nieghbours she sickens Her black and white TV has long seen a picture The cross on the wall is a permanent fixture The postman delivers, the final reminders She sells off her silver, and poodles in china Drinks to remember I, me and myself Winds up the clock, and knocks dust from the shelf Home is a love that I miss very much So the past has been bottled, and labeled with love During the wartime an American pilot Made every air-raid a time of excitement She moved to his prairie and married the texan She'd learn from a distance how love was a lesson He became drinker and she became mother She knew that one day she'd be one or the other He ate himself old and drank himself dizzy Proud of her features, she kept herself pretty Drinks to remember I, me and myself Winds up the clock, and knocks dust from the shelf Home is a love that I miss very much So the past has been bottled, and labelled with love He like a cowboy died drunk in a slumber Out on the porch in the middle of summer She crossed the ocean back home to her family But they had retired to roads that are sandy She moved home alone without friends or relations Lived in a world full of age reservations Her moth eaten armchair, she'd say that she's sod all Friends who have left her, to drink from the bottle Drinks to remember I, me and myself Winds up the clock, and knocks dust from the shelf Home is a love that I miss very much So the past has been bottled, and labelled with love So the past has been bottled, and labelled with love The past --- has been bottled, -- and la--be --lled with --- love