| Love Is A Many-splendored Thing |
|
Love is a many-splendored thing,
It's the april rose that only grows in the early spring,
Love is nature's way of giving a reason to be living,
The golden crown that makes a man a king.
Lost on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist two lovers kissed and the world stood still,
When your fingers touched my silent heart and taught me how to sing,
Yes, true love's a many-splendored thing.
|
| |
|