Nhạc sĩ: Ira Gershwin, George Gershwin
Lời đăng bởi: 86_15635588878_1671185229650
They're writing songs of love,
but not for me
There are lucky stars above,
but not for me
With love to lead the way,
I found more clouds of grey
Than any
Russian play could guarantee
I was a fool to fall,
and yet that way
I hold her last,
and oh, so like a day
Although I can't dismiss the memory of this
kiss I guess it's not
for me