There’s nothing left for me of days that used to be.
I live in memories among my souvenirs.
Some letters tied in blue, a photograph or two,
I see a rose from you among my souvenirs.

A few more tokens rest within my treasure chest.
And though they do their best to give me consolation,
I count them all apart, and as the teardrops start,
I find a broken heart among my souvenirs.