In the evening, when the kettle’s on for tea
An old familiar feeling settles over me
And it’s your face I see
And I believe that you are there

In a garden, when I stop to touch a rose
And feel the petals soft and sweet against my nose
I smile and I suppose that somehow maybe you are there

When I’m dreaming
And I find myself awake
Without a warning
And I rub my eyes
And fantasize
And all at once I realize
It’s morning
And my fantasy is fading
Like a distant star at dawn
My dearest dream is gone
I often think
There’s just one thing to do
Pretend the dream is true
And tell myself that you are there