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In the evening when the kettles 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 start to touch a rose
I 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
Then I rub my eyes and fantasize and all at once I realise
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 that dream is true
And tell my self that you are there
