1960-#73. Connie Francis
Among My Souvenirs
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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