That's it come on
begins to mourn.
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 be a fatalistic warning.
Someone matters and the street lamp
shatters 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.
Burnt out ends of smoky days,
the stale cold smell of a morning.
A 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.
