I am that man, the man who kneeled in front of you
kissed your fiongertips and swam in your fragrance
And now that love is worn out, old goods
sometimes giving up is hard.
To me you are still that fair day
when, in the middle of the June and birch trees,
we celebrated our wedding, I could not forecast the weather
when the trace of storms is part of love.
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
why did you leave so soon?
I am that man, the mad man who can not get past it
who called you at nights and cried, pain in his voice
But I have tried to revive the love of another heart to no avail
I'd like to give up the ring
To me you are still that fair day
when, in the middle of the June and birch trees,
we celebrated our wedding, I could not forecast the weather
when the trace of storms is part of love.
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
why did you leave so soon?
I am that man, the same man if we run into eachother in the streets
You are the story of love that cuts me deep
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
why did you leave so soon?
To me you are still that fair day
when, in the middle of the June and birch trees,
we celebrated our wedding, I could not forecast the weather
when the trace of storms is part of love.
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
white bride in the photograph
You are my Julia
why did you leave so soon?