I hear the sound of music,
Your special kind of music.
And that reminds me dear of you.
I smell the summer roses,
Your favorite kind of roses
And that reminds me to of you, dear
If there could be no music,
If there could be no roses
No summer nights to make me
dream as I do.
Perhaps, I might forget you.
But in my heart I know
That I need no reminder to miss you so.
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There's nothing left for me
Of days that used to be
They're just a memory
Among my souvenirs
Some letters sad and blue
A photograph or two
I see a rose from you
Among my souvenirs
A few more tokens rest
Within my treasure chest
And, though they do their best
To give me consolation,
I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs
I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs.
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