|
Each and every day |
|
I think of him |
|
So tender and dear |
|
As if he was here |
|
Offer his witchy words |
|
Sometimes sweet |
|
Sometimes mean |
|
And there will always be |
|
This image of a glamorous scene |
|
When you held the mirror |
|
For Sophia Loren |
|
In his trembling hands |
|
Charmed by her beauty |
|
Although he was gay |
|
Each and every day |
|
I think of him |
|
I never forget |
|
The last time we met |
|
In an open home |
|
So very far away |
|
Still, we are clear |
|
And all the more dear |
|
Telling me yet another time |
|
How he felt |
|
When he held the mirror |
|
For Sophia Loren |
|
In his trembling hands |
|
Shook by her beauty |
|
Although he was gay |
|
Each and every day |
|
I think of him |
|
And his bitter sweet stories |
|
Of the Beatles in London |
|
Way back in the past |
|
Of bus sing reel |
|
And the meeting he's been |
|
And when I think of him |
|
I see him holding the mirror |
|
For Sophia Loren |
|
Knocked out by her beauty |
|
In his trembling hands |
|
In his shaking hands |
|
Knocked out by her beauty |
|
Times on end |
|
Times on end |
|
Times on end |
