Nothing Gonna Change My Love For You – George Benson
Sometimes I'd think of him, like the trees think of their falling leaves. Sometimes he sneaks into my dream, Where I helplessly sway away with him, tickled pink, whole, happy and overjoyed. But once again, he runs away as if unattended like a hard-hearted bandit. Leaving -- the lasting fragrance of one long sapphire night passing.
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