The feel of my arm around your waist, the pale blue nightdress that you wore.

Your hair in braids, your sailor top: the things I don't see anymore.

You lost your suitcase in my hotel room, a subway token from your Ma.

The sun reflecting off the water on your face & the way you drove your car.

All these things I can't forget tho' I don't see you anymore.



Drove to the airport thru' a traffic jam; a deer lay dying in the road.

Maybe I should have seen it as some kind of sign, except I don't believe in them no more.

No, no - but I believe these things I can't forget, tho' I don't see you anymore.

Yes, I believe these things I can't forget, 'cos I see them - tho' I don't see you anymore.