My piano plays only for you

For you, are the only on it remembers.

One touch from your hands will make it new.

Its black and white keys have been touched by few,

The notes escaping like fire from embers.

One touch from your hands will make it new.

Over the past years I have grown too,

Passing through many lonely Septembers.

My piano plays only for you.

Your sweet melodies are long overdue

As the year comes around to your November.

One touch from your hands will make it new.

But that cannot happen; it will stay old and true.

Longing for your touch, we clearly remember.

As gentle and soft as the morning dew,

My piano plays for you.