Every time we say goodbye, I die a little
Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little
Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know.
Think so little of me, they allow you to go.
When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere; begin to sing about it,
There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to minor,
Every time we say goodbye.
When you're near, there's such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere; begin to sing about it,
There's no love song finer, but how strange the change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye.
Thank you Cole Porter and Natalie Cole
Até daqui a uns dias...
- .... . . -. -..
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário