A 1934 popular song.
Words by Johnny Mercer.
Music by Gordon Jenkins.
Sheet music provided by Nicholas Leunissen:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
What is there to write, what is there to say
Same things happen ev’ry day
Not a thing to write, not a thing to say
So I take my pen in hand and start the same old way
Chorus
Dear I thought I’d drop a line
The weather’s cool, the folks are fine
I’m in bed each night at nine
P. S. I love you
Yesterday we had some rain
But all in all I can’t complain
Was it dusty on the train?
P. S. I love you
Write to the Browns just as soon as you’re able
They came around to call
I burned a hole in the dining room table
And let me see, I guess that’s all
Nothing else for me to say
And so I’ll close, but by the way
Evrybody’s thinking of you
P. S. I love you
Sung here by Laurence Rubenstein:
Sung here by Vancha March: