Un Homme Qui Me Plait

Concerto pour la Fin d'un Amour

Music by Francis Lai
Words by P.F. Webster

I count the petals on a lilactree,
I read the tea leaves in a glass of tea,
I clock the flight of every honey bee,
I wish on every falling star I see,
What lost illusions do these things foretell?
Love has flown! Toll the bell!
The secret pleasure of your hand in mine,
The kiss that tasted like October wine,
Those golden moments bathed in candleshine
Are scattered leaves the Autumn winds have tossed,
And this concerto for a love that's lost, seems to say,
Love was ours, yesterday.

The sad sweet music of a carousel,
The sound of surf within a cockleshell,
The April dreams the winds of March dispel,
The disenchantment and the last farewell,
Like shadows parting on a distant shore,
Love has flown! Look the door!
The secret pleasure of your hand in mine,
The kiss that tasted like October wine,
Those golden moments bathed in candleshine
Are scattered leaves the Autumn winds have tossed,
And this concerto for a love that's lost, seems to say,
Love was ours, yesterday.