lovers leave their traces like jets across the sky they find in all those faces lines they recognize my keepsakes have there places at the back of a drawer or slipped between pages and stuck on a shelf but i m still in love i m still in love i m still in love with nothing but myself yes sometimes i remember the way they signed their names and always in december i feel some kind of shame the heart it stays so tender i reminisce like a hangman wishing his prisoners well but i m still in love i m still in love i m still in love with nothing but myself and i know their mother s ages and i know all the stories so well and i know i ll see their faces in hell so wipe away their traces blow the dust off of the shelf because i m still in love i m still in love i m still in love with nothing but myself