The face, in this picture Looks sort, of familiar The eyes I have seen But the name rather distant When was the time, the immeasurable date? I think I hear an echo of an ovation A lover, stranger than fiction Dragged by the winds ‘til barely a whisper The years are a museum Ancient and inconsistent When was goodbye? It escapes all my guesses I’m a towering sunspot of repression I’ve forgotten it, I don’t remember bliss It’s too long ago and too far away It all slipped away, If we ever kissed, my memory’s a ship That sailed long ago and so far away It all slipped away A face, in a picture A lover, a fiction Surreal like a dream Handed over to oblivion It’s a lifeless cadaver, history’s little disaster It retreated hard and it lasted … One day, on the phone A voice sounds like, I haven’t heard it before The words I all know But their antiquity’s not persistent Why are we speaking about s...