Memory Barbra Streisand

Midnight, Not a sound from the pavement Has the moon lost her memory She is smiling alone. In the lamplight, The withered leaves collect at my feet, And the wind begins to moan. Memory, All alone in the moonlight, I can dream of the old days Life was beautiful then I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again. Every street lamp seems to beat A fatalistic warning. Someone mutters and the street lamp gutters