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A stick a stone |
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Yesterday, just a |
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Photograph of yesterday |
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And all its edges folded |
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And the corners |
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Faded sepia brown |
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And yet it's all I have |
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Of our past love |
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A postscript to its ending |
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Brighter days |
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I can see such brighter days |
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When every song we sang |
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Is sung again |
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And now we know |
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We know this time it's for good |
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And we're lovers once again |
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And you're near me |
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I can remember the |
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Rain in December |
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The leaves are brown - |
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On the ground |
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In Spain I did love and adore you |
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The nights filled with |
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Joy were our yesterdays |
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And tomorrow will bring you near me |
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I can recall my desire |
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Every reverie is on fire |
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And I get a picture of |
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All our yesterdays |
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Yes, today |
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I can say, "I get a kick every time |
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They play that, 'Spain," again" |
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I can remember the rain in December |
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The leaves are brown- |
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On the ground |
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Our love was a Spanish fiesta |
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The bright lights and songs |
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Were our joy each day |
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And the nights were the |
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Heat of yearning |
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I can recall my desire |
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Every reverie is on fire |
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And I get a picture of |
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All our yesterdays |
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Yes, today |
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I can say, "I get a kick everytime |
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I see you gaze at me." |
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I see moments of history |
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Your eyes meet mine and |
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They dance to the melody |
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And we live again |
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As if dreaming |
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The sound of our |
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Hearts beat like castanets |
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And forever we'll know their meaning |
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In Spain I did love and adore you |
|
The nights filled with |
|
Joy were our yesterdays |
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And tomorrow will bring you near me |
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You gaze at me |
|
I see moments of history |
|
Your eyes meet mine |
|
And they dance to the melody |
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And we live again |
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As if dreaming |
|
In Spain I did love and adore you |
|
The nights filled with |
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Joy were our yesterdays |
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And tomorrow will bring you near me |
