Alone, as if by force of habit
Even tonight, I stop by the bar
An echo, taunting me, fills the air
It’s a voice, a voice that’s all too familiar
It’s you, so close, but you hide
Because you’re still talking about me
Could it be you cannot forget me
You speak to a friend that knows nothing of me
You’re talking of my heart
And the bar, it smells of coffee
As the ice cream counter plays witness
d’amore to your tale
Slander is a wicked wind
Said the writer with his pen
But you believed it to be true
While for me there was no reason
To give credence to suspicious envy
Yet even now, you’re still talking about me
Could it be you cannot forget me
My faltering command of English
That won your love right here
And countless coffees we shared together
I told you I love Rossini, you know,
the Italian opera
Right here, by the ice cream counter
Now I’m explaining this love to your friend
I plead, tell this to my love
She sits there, uncaring, at your side
Tell her if the opera isn’t enough, there will be
another song, tell her
If you still feel the need to talk of me
Then surely, you haven’t forgotten
And I’m still singing about you
Because I know I can’t forget you