Whenever skies look grey to me
And trouble begins to brew
Whenever the winter winds
Begin to blow
I concentrate on you

When fortune cries nay, nay to me
And people declare you're through
Whenever the blues [bad word] my only song
I concentrate on you

On your smile to sweet so tender
When first my kiss you deny
On the love in your eyes
When you surrender
And once again our arms entertwine

And so when wise men say to me
That loves young dreams [bad word] [bad word] To prove that even wise men can be wrong
I concentrate on you.