You never remind me of Paris in Spring
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A Rembrandt, I find, to my mind you don't bring
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There's no work of art could start to compare
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You never remind me of pricey French wine
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Or tuxedoed gents who have dinner at nine
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Every other man is Vin Ordinaire
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You're so unique I find
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So well-designed
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That every single thing about you
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Reminds me of only you
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You never remind me of summers in Spain
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The sun when it's setting, the sound of the rain
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New Years with Dick Clark, or Park Avenue
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You never remind me of Sir Lancelot
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My memory of him is totally shot
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Kind Midas touch, not much next to you
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'Cause if the truth be known
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When we're alone
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Then every single thing about you
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Reminds me of only you You never remind me of gods that are Greek
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My dear,
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And though I may hang on each word that you speak
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It's clear
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Ahead and behind me I lose track of all events
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And as a consequence you are my present tense
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You never remind me of anyone who
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Reminds me of anyone other than you
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Compare though I will, I still can't equate
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'Cause when you're here with me
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Then vis-a-vis
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You raise the heat repeatedly
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So if I forget to recall
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Remind me again, that's all
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You Never Remind Me
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| Linda Eder |
