I remember the moon

The moon - it reminds me of a place -
where young lovers come to spoon...
and if i'm not mistaken -
i could hear the nightingale singing
of a love gone by...
of a dream that passed her by...

Looking at the full moon -
is what all lovers do,
'coz that pale disc in the night sky -
is all that can be seen,
on starless nights like this -
as the lonely wolf howls out his mournful call...

Though tomorrow they will see a paler moon -
outshone by a smiling, shimmering, golden sun,
tonight they mourn the loss of a childhood dream -
and tomorrow it would lay buried in its deep grave,
like the shattered fragments of all broken dreams ...