| I walked around for hours
|
| In the pouring rain
|
| I never thought I’d get used to this pain
|
| My feet are hurting
|
| But inside I’m calm and clear
|
| Oh how I want you to be near
|
| This part of town reminds me
|
| Of sunny afternoons
|
| My favorite tin pan alley tunes
|
| Your eyes so shiny
|
| The sunlight on your skin
|
| Imagine how grand it would have been
|
| It could have been more than a sily fling
|
| I would have bought you flowers anything
|
| But you just called me up
|
| And called things off
|
| That’s not my interpretation of love
|
| My friends all told me that
|
| You’re not the one for me
|
| But I fell in love so foolishly
|
| My heart kept skipping
|
| When we used to kiss
|
| I never knew this could exist
|
| This part of town will always
|
| Be a part of you and me
|
| Those summer nights in '93
|
| Just lingered on my lips
|
| Imagine how grand it could have been
|
| It could have been more than a sily fling
|
| I would have bought you flowers anything
|
| But you just called me up
|
| And called things off
|
| That’s not my interpretation of love
|
| Interpretation of love
|
| I don’t believe in fairy tails
|
| Or romance novels, dear
|
| But all those things I used to say were
|
| Honest and sincere
|
| So let’s bring out the gospel choir
|
| And cue the violins
|
| 'Cause that’s how grand
|
| It could have been
|
| It could have been more than a sily fling
|
| I would have bought you flowers anything
|
| But you just called me up
|
| And called things off
|
| That’s not my interpretation of love
|
| It could have been more than a sily fling
|
| I would have bought you flowers anything
|
| But you just called me up
|
| And called things off
|
| That’s not my interpretation of love
|
| Interpretation of love |