| Yesterday, just a photograph of yesterday
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| And all it’s edges folded and the corners faded, sepia brown
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| And yet it’s all I have of our past love
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| A postscript to it’s ending
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| Brighter days, I can see such brighter days
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| When every song we sang is sung again
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| And now we know it’s for good
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| This time for good
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| And we’re lovers once again
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| And you’re near me
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| I can remember the rain in December
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| The leaves are brown on the ground
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| In Spain I did love and adore you
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| The nights filled with joy were our yesterdays
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| And tomorrow will bring you near me
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| I can recall my desire, every reverie is on fire
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| And I got a picture of all our yesterdays
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| Yesterday, I can say. |
| I got a kick everytime I see
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| That Spain again
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| I can remember the rain in December
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| The leaves are brown on the ground
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| Our love was a Spanish fiesta
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| The bright lights and songs were our joy each day
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| And the nights were the heat of yearning
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| And I got a picture of all our yesterdays
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| Yesterday, I can say. |
| I got a kick everytime I see
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| You gaze at me
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| I see moments of history
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| Your eyes meet mine
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| And they dance to the melody
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| And we live again, as if dreaming
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| The sound of our hearts beat like castanets
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| And forever we know their meaning |