Vera Lynn - A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square

That certain night, the night we met,

there was magic abroad in the air,

there were angels dining at the Ritz

and a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

I may be right, I may be wrong,

but I'm perfectly willing to swear

that when you turned and smiled at me

a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

The moon that lingered over London town,

poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown.

How could he know we two were so in love,

the whole darn world seemed upside down.

The streets of town were paved with stars,

it was such a romantic affair.

And as we kissed and said good-night,

a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

When dawn came stealing up all gold and blue,

to interrupt our rendezvous,

I still remember how you smiled and said,

"Was that a dream or was it true?"

Our homeward step was just as light

as the tap-dancing feet of Astaire.

And like an echo far away

a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

I know cause I was there

that night in Berkeley Square.