I feel the autumn breeze.
It steals cross my pillow as soft as a will–o’–the–wisp.
And in its song there is sadness because there’s no you.
The lonely autumn trees, how softly they’re sighing for summe
Is dying they know that in my heart there’s no gladness because
There’s no you.

The park that we walked in, the garden we talked in,
How lonesome they seem in the fall.
The stormy clouds hover and falling leaves cover
Our favorite nook in the wall. In spring we’ll meet again.
We’ll kiss and recapture the summertime rapture we knew.
And from that day never more will I say, “There’s no you.”