Love is a many-splendoured thing:
It's the April rose that only grows in the early Spring.
Love is nature's way of give a reason to be living:
The golden crown that makes man a king.
Once on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist, two lovers kissed,
And the world stood still.
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing.
Yes, true love's a many-splendoured thing!
Once on a high and windy hill,
In the morning mist, two lovers kissed,
And the world stood still.
Then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing.
Yes, true love's a many-splendoured thing!
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