It's the april rose that only grows
In the early spring.
Love is nature's way of giving
A reason to be living,
The golden crown that makes a man a king.
Once on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist, two lovers kissed
And the world stood still.
Then your fingers touched my silent heart
And taught it how to sing,
Yes, true love's a many splendoured thing.
Once on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist, two lovers kissed
And the world stood still.
Then your fingers touched my silent heart
And taught it how to sing,
Yes, true love's a many splendoured thing.
