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 start 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