The night is bright and cold. And I am feeling old. Cos I am filling my head. With scenes from the past. The night is dark and warm. And something's doing me harm. Maybe the sad books on the shelf. And the woe of looking at myself. Cos the nights always end up sad. Though I thought my youth would last. How I really wanted to be young. Young in the head that now's dead. I wish I was the boy in the middle of the sun. I wish I was the one to make your heart sigh. I wish I was the sun