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 was true
And tell myself that you are there
