The Painting

Every time I remember that sunrise and those kisses, The birdsong and the moonlight. If only I could have back that youth. To bring back all the feelings and mistakes. To bring back you and the birdsong. To dance to the rhythm of the blues. And drink a glass of champagne. I want to have a painting. Let it grow old, not me. My feelings never grow old. Oh, my youth. Where can I find you, painting? Where should I look for you? Is this really just a description? Or maybe it's only my illusion. I won't find you, painting, and I won't search For you anymore. It's just a description. My hair has turned gray. I look at you, Painting. Inside you my life will live. I want to have a painting. Let it grow old, not me. My feelings never grow old. Oh, my youth. Where can I find you, painting? Where should I look for you? Is this really just a description? Or maybe it's only my illusion. I want to have a painting. Let it grow old, not me. My feelings never grow old. Oh, my youth. Where can I find you, painting? Where should I look for you? Is this really just a description? Or maybe It's only my illusion.