tus piernas...

every time  we say goodbye i die a little,
every time  we say goodbye i wonder why a little,
why the gods above me who must be in the know
think so little of me they allow you to go...

when you near, there´s such an air of spring,
about it
i can hear a lark somewhere waiting to sing about it,
there´s no love song finer
but how strange the change from major to minor
every time  we say goodbye...

when you near, there´s such an air of spring
about it...

Cole Porter