|
There's a little bit of springtime in the back of my mind, |
|
That remembers when there was a time |
|
When we danced and laughed an spent some time drinking wine, |
|
And somewhere in there, |
|
There's a little child without a thought, |
|
Without a doubt that every cloud is silver lined. |
|
He is warm and everything is new, |
|
And everything is clean and everything is free |
|
And there were still so many things to see. |
|
So many things still left to be. |
|
You're a very small drop in the middle of a big sea |
|
Of high and mighty things. |
|
Your fascination for larger than life, |
|
Your brand new appetite, as though we'd invented it. |
|
We danced. |
|
There's a little bit of springtime in the back of my mind, |
|
That remembers things, perhaps as they should've been, |
|
Rather than lies, rather than the cruelty, |
|
That sometimes we were guilty of and as everyone knows, |
|
We were only young and really couldn't have known. |
|
We were very young and it's nice to know there's a place to go |
|
And still so many things left to see. |
|
You're a drop in the middle of a big sea of high and mighty things. |
|
Your fascination for larger than life, |
|
Your brand new appetite. |
|
As though we'd invented it. |
|
We danced. |
|
It could be the longest time and I'll remember it. |
|
You don't know what's in store, when we laugh. |
