| We decided to give the lift a miss
|
| Took the tube station stairs
|
| Outside darkness was falling
|
| We soon turned down a quiet side street
|
| And in no time were kicking
|
| Through autumn leaves on the edge of the Heath
|
| Half an hour later we were looking on
|
| The sight of London lit up we’d happened upon
|
| The lights, the time of day, the time of year
|
| For me conspired to give rise to
|
| A moment breathtaking in its beauty
|
| And I had a sense that she was moved too
|
| I don’t know how she feels about me now
|
| Where a silence has fallen has she ever found
|
| That she is thinking she’d like to slip
|
| Her hand in mine as in another time
|
| Or she is thinking she’d like our lips
|
| To meet as they would do in former days
|
| Has she never thought along those lines at all?
|
| Nothing along those lines at all
|
| Nothing along those lines at all
|
| Nothing along those lines at all
|
| At all
|
| When later she said how she was glad
|
| She’d finally found the proper Heath
|
| I thought how, a little more than three years before
|
| All over it we’d walked
|
| And wondered if she’d forgot then
|
| If I maybe was meant to speak up
|
| Feeling puzzled I just kept quiet
|
| I made no mention of before
|
| I made no mention of before
|
| I made no mention of before
|
| I made no mention of before |