Frederick Loewe
I Still See Elisa
I still see Elisa
She keeps on returning
As breathless, young as ever
I still hear Elisa
And still feel the yearning
To hold her against me again
Her heart was made of holidays
Her smile was made of dawn
Her laughter was an April song
That echoes on and on
Since I saw Elisa
The shadows are falling
And winter is calling above
But I still see Elisa
Whenever I dream of love