I picture the place where there are only pleasant things.
Truly no one is lonely and cold as here.
Everyone has got someone to lean o but me.
Everybody has got somebody to hold but me.
Then I think of you, but I feel alone again.

I open the book and find me a place, I've never been.
I'd rather off there than go home without you.
Everyone knows that love isn't simple as a bee.
Surely no one is born to be lost indeed.
Then I think of you but I feel alone again.

"Why have all things come to this end".
"Why has our home turn to a cold place".

I picture the place where there are only pleasant things.
Surely no one is born to be lost indeed.
Then I think of you, I think of you.
I think of you but I feel alone again.
I think of you but I feel alone again.