If i'm falling down and I bow my head
I'm thinking of him and I will be quiet
I won't blame the lies
I will blame the rain for feeling so blue.

He will not show
The red wine will not pour in the glass
His jokes will be heard by another
and his poems will not arrive at my door.

Sweet words and laughter
and shared secret smiles,
nights of passion, love making, sweet
moments of secret pleasures
They'll all be his, not mine, to keep.