First day of love never comes back,
A passionate hour's never a wasted one.
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care.
First day of love never comes back,
A passionate hour's never a wasted one.
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care.
First day of love never comes back,
A passionate hour's never a wasted one.
The violin, the poet's hand,
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care.