Miles Is a Cigarette - Chris Rea

The weak and hazy shades of winter sun

Come shining through

Lifting fog from the trees and a gentle warm breeze

Send it up in to the blue

Blue sky and you come creeping through my soul

Goodbye our love’s smoking too

And the sound of those Italian engines

Is much more the sound of you

Miles was a cigarette smoky and long

Gonna miss what I never had

Now that cigarette is gone