|
Not a sound from the pavement. |
|
Has the moon lost her memory? |
|
She is smiling alone. |
|
In the lamplight the withered leaves |
|
Collect at my feet |
|
And the wind |
|
Begins to moan. |
|
Memory. |
|
All alone in the moonlight |
|
I can smile at the old days, |
|
I was beautiful then. |
|
I remember the time |
|
I knew what happiness was, |
|
Let the memory |
|
Live again. |
|
Every street lamp seems to beat |
|
A fatalistic warning. |
|
Someone mutters and a street lamp gutters |
|
And soon it will be morning. |
|
Daylight. |
|
I must wait for the sunrise, |
|
I must think of a new life |
|
And I mustn't give in. |
|
When the dawn comes |
|
Tonight will be a memory too |
|
And a new day |
|
Will begin. |
|
Burnt out ends of smoky days, |
|
The stale cold smell of morning. |
|
The street lamp dies, another night is over, |
|
Another day is dawning. |
|
Touch me. |
|
It's so easy to leave me |
|
All alone with the memory |
|
Of my days in the sun. |
|
If you touch me |
|
You'll understand what happiness is. |
|
Look, a new day has begun. |
