(Edgar Leslie — Horatio Nicholls)
There’s nothing left for me
Of days that used to be
There’s just a memory
Among my souvenirs.
Some letters tied in 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…
