If they asked me, I could write a bookAbout the way

me to the moonAnd let me play among the

and flows of angel hairAnd ice cream castles in

eyes are dry, my loveSince you've been gone, I

this is my songHere is a song, a serenade to

fingers in my hairThat sly come-hither stareThat strips my conscience

We might have been meant for each otherTo be or not

in love with love is falling for make-believeFalling in

in New YorkWhy does it seem so invitingAutumn in

Don't know whyTheres no sun up in the skyStormy weatherSince my

The first Noël, the angels did sayWas to certain poor shepherds

I'm not the guy who cared about loveAnd I'm not the

have heard among this clanYou are called the forgotten

get along without you very well, of course, I

My heart is sad and lonelyFor you I sigh, for you

Adeste fidelisLaeti triumphantesVenite, venite in BethlehemNatum videte regem angelorumVenite adoremusVenite adoremusVenite

Empty rooms behind me, no more nights aloneA table and some

you met Miss Jones?Someone said as we shook handsShe

Here goes - baby here goesEvery worry, every fear goesEvery dull

a fool to want youI'm a fool to want