There’s nothing left for me
Of days that used to be
They’re just a memory
Among my souvenirs
Of days that used to be
They’re just a memory
Among my souvenirs
Some letters sad and blue
A photograph or two
I see a rose from you
Among my souvenirs
A photograph or two
I see a rose from you
Among my souvenirs
A few more tokens rest
Within my treasure chest
And, though they do their best
To give me consolation
Within my treasure chest
And, though they do their best
To give me consolation
I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs
And, as the teardrops start
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs
I count them all apart
And, as the teardrops start
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs.
And, as the teardrops start
I find a broken heart
Among my souvenirs.
MY OWN PRIVATE IDAHO 
Oh how sad and lovely
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Isn’t it just?
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[…] Own Private Idaho Among My Souvenirs As if she’d picked the lock of my heart, where I’d packed such things […]
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