Frank Sinatra

There's nothing left for me
Of days that used to be
I live in memory
Among my souvenirs

Some letters sad and blue
A photograph or two
I see a rose from you
Among my souvenirs

A few more tokens rest
Within my treasure chest
And, though they do their best
To give me consolation,

I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs

A few more tokens rest
Within my treasure chest
And, though they do their best
To give me consolation,

I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs