Midnight,
not a sound from the pavement.
Has the moon lost her memory?
She is smiling alone.
In the lamplight, the withered
leaves collect at my feet,
and the wind begins to moan.
Memory,
All alone in the moonlight,
I can dream of the old days.
Life was beautiful then.
I remember the time
I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again.
Every steet lamp seems to beat
a fatalistic warning.
Someone mutters,
and the street lamp gutters
and soon it will be morning.
Daylight,
I must wait for the sunrise,
I must think of a new life
and I musnt give in.
When the dawn comes,
tonight will be a memory too
and a new day will begin