I dream of the summertime—
of Venice and the summertime.
I see the cafes, the sunlit days
with you, my love.
The antique shop where we'd stop
for the souvenir—
the bridge, the boats below,
the blue above.
A romantic dream—
Venice and the splendid sun.
I will carry away the far-off echo
of a thousand songs.
I will remember
this sleeping lagoon
that speaks to my heart only of love,
forever of love.
I dream all the winter long
of mandolins that played our song.
The dream is so real
I almost feel your lips on mine.
And though I know we have to be
an ocean apart,
there's Venice and you,
and summertime, deep in my heart.
Ciao.