Sometimes
* * *
Sometimes I sit in a corner and cry
Sometimes I like it, but I don't know why
Feeling alone, thinking of the past
of things that are gone, and of things that can't last
Sometimes -
some precious, marvellous, magic times.
Sometimes I sit in a corner and see
your face and your body right in front of me
Forgetting what we lacked, I recall what was fine
All things turn better when they're no longer mine
Sometimes -
some precious, marvellous, magic times.
Now I don't want to meet you, you must have grown old
Don't wreck my dreaming or turn my memories cold
Life ain't worth a damn without wishes any more
What's the use of hearts that have never been sore
Sometimes I sit in a corner and cry
It could have been different, but there's no reason why
Sometimes I find that my memory's grown cold
and then I get up and I feel I've grown old.
Sometimes -
some precious, marvellous, magic times.