I picture the place where there are only Pleasant things Truly no one Is lonely and cold as here Everyone has got someone to lean on But me Everybody has got somebody to hold But me Then I think of you But I feel alone again I open the book and find me a place I've never been I'd rather off there than go home without you Everyone knows that love isn't simple as a bee Surely no one is born to be lost indeed Then I think of you but I feel alone again "Why have all things come to this end" Why has our home turn to a cold place I picture the place where there are only pleasant things Surely no one is born to be lost indeed Then I think of you but I feel alone again