When the moonlight shines down
on the Hollywood world,
And the heroine waits for
her beau to return,
And violins play from behind
garden walls,
How I'd love to remain with
the silver refrain
of an old fashioned waltz.
As they dance round the floor,
and there's no-one else there,
and the world is no more and
there's never a care,
by the perfect lagoon where
the nightingale calls,
with only the moon and the
nostalgic tune
of an old fashioned waltz.
Roses are red and violets are
blue,
Primroses pale on a velvet
green hue,
Warm summer days by cool waterfalls,
Like the music we hear,
Those things we'll always
hold dear,
Like an old fashioned waltz,
Like an old fashioned waltz,
An old fashioned waltz.
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |